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The levicd succours that should lend him aid,
While he, renowned noble gentleman,
straight: Within six hours they will be at his aid. . 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. - [Ereunt.
SCENTE V.—The English camp, near Bourdeaux. Enter Talbot and John his son.
Tal. Oyoung 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, 0 malignant and ill-boding stars!— Now thou art come unto a feast of death, A terrible and unavoided 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 regardo 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, everyone 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 thymother's hopeslie 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.
John. You cannot witness for me, being slain. If death be so apparent, then both fly.
Tal. A. leave my followers here, to fight, and
My age was never tainted with such shame.
John. And shall my youthbeguilty of such blame? No more can I be sever'd from your side, Than can yourself yourself 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 son, Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon. Come, side |...} together live and die; And soul o soul from France to heaven fly.
SCENE PI-A field of battle. Alarum; Ex
cursions, wherein Talbot's Son is hemmed about,
and Talbot rescues him.
Tal. Saint George and victory! fight, soldiers,
The roofhath with Talbot broke his word,
John. O twice my father! twice am I thy son.
Tal. When from the dauphin's crest thy sword
It warm'd thy father's heart with proud desire
bow:— Here, poin. 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.
John. The sword of Orleans hath not made me smart,
Thesewords of yoursdrawlife-blood from my heart: On that advantage, bought with such a shame §: save a paltry life, and slay bright fame,)
fore young Talbot from old Talbot fly, The coward horse, that bears me, fall and die: And likel 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 thouthydesperate sireof 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.
SCEN E VII-Another part of the same.— .Alarum: Excursions. EnterTalbot wounded, supported by a Servant.
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 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 ruino 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 lear lord! lo, where your son is rine : Tal. Thou antic death, which laugh'st us here to scorn, Anon, from thy insulting tyranny, Coupled in bonds of J.;; Two Talbots, winged through the lither 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 whoshould 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. É.
JAlarums. Ereunt Soldiers and Servant, leaving
Enter Sir William Lucy, attended; a French
pe, The em o: 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
Glo. Well, my 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 to3. 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 Winchester, in a cardinal's habit.
Ere. What! is my lord of Winchester install'd, 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. Andforthe proffer of mylord yourmaster, 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
tráct, 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 oney; 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) Charms sewed up.
Humphrey of Gloster, thou shalt well perceive,
You speedy helpers, that are substitutes
(3) The north was supposed to be the particula habitation of bad spirits.
ace: Who art §. say, that I may honour thee. JMar. Margaret my name; and daughter toaking, The king of Naples, whosoe'er thou art. Suff. An ears I am, and Suffolk am I call’d. Be not offended, nature's miracle, Thou art allotted to be ta'en by me: So doth the swan her downy cygnets save, Keeping them prisoners underneath her wings. Yet, if this servile usage once offend, Go, and be free again as Suffolk's friend. [She turns away as going. 0, stay!—I have no power to lether pass; My hand would free her, but my heart says—no. As plays the sun upon the glassy streams, Twinkling another counterfeited beam, So seems this gorgeous beauty to mine eyes. Fain would I woo her, yet I dare not speak: I'll call for pen and ink, and write my mind: Fie, De la Poole! disable not thyself;” Hast not a tongue? is she not here thy prisoner? Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight? Ay; beauty's princely majesty is such, Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses rough. JMar. Say, earl of Suffolk, if thy name be soWhat ransom must I pay before I pass? For, I perceive, I am thy prisoner. Suff. How canst thou tell, she will deny thy suit, Before thou make a trial of her love? [..Aside. JMar. Why speak'st thou not? what ransom must I pay? Suff. She's beautiful; and therefore to bewoo'd: She is a woman; therefore to be won. [Aside. JMar. Wilt thou accept of ransom, yea, or no? Suff. Fond man! remember, that thouhastawife;
(1) Lower. (2) To ban is to curse. (3) “Do not represent thyself so weak.'
Then how can Margaret be thy paramour? .
state. JMar. I were best leave him, for he will not hear. Suff. There allis marr'd; there lies acooling card. ar. He talks at random; sure the man is mad. § And yet a dispensation may be had. ar. And yet I would that you would answer me. Suff. I'll win this lady Margaret. For whom? Why, for my king: Tush! that's a wooden thing." JMar. He talks of wood: It is some carpenter. Suff. 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 he is poor, And our nobility will scorn i. match. [Aside. JMar. Hear ye, captain? Are you not at leisure? Suff. It shall be so, disdain they ne'er so much: Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield.— Madam, i. a secret to reveal. JMar. What though I be enthrall'd? he'seems a knight, And will ..., way dishonour me. [..Aside. Suff. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.”
ar. Perhaps, I shall be rescu'd by the French; And then I need not crave his courtesy. [..Aside. § Sweetmadam, givene hearing in a cause— ar. Tush women have been captivate ere now. - [...Aside. § Lady, wherefore talk you so? ar. I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for quo. Suff. Say, gentle princess, would you not suppose Your bondage happy, to be made a queen? JMar. To be a queen in bondage, is more vile, Than is a slave in base servility; For princes should be free. Suff. And so shall you, If happy England's royal king be free. JMar. Why, what concernshi freedom unto me? Suff. I'll undertake to make thee Henry's queen; To put a golden sceptre in thy hand, A.Fset a precious crown upon thy head, If thou wist condescend to be my— JMar. What? Suff. His love. ar. I am unworthy to be Henry's wife. Suff. 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 Å. madam; are you so content? .Mar. An if my father please, I am content. Suff. 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. .A parley sounded. E.ter Reignier, on the walls. Suff. See, Reignier, see, thy daughter prisoner. Reig. To whom? § To me. Reig. Suffolk, what remedy ? I am a soldier; and unap! to weep, Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness. Suff. Yes, there is remedy enough, my lord; Consent (and, for thy honour, give consent.) Thy daughter shall be wedded to my king; Whom I with pain have woo'd and won thereto; And this her easy-held imprisonment Hath gain'd thy daughter princely liberty.
Reig. Speaks Suffolk as he thinks? Suff. Fair Margaret knows, That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, o d Reig. U thy princely warrant, I descend, To : o 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 territo. ries; 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 #. 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: And yet, methinks, I could be well content To be mine own attorney in this case. [Asi 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. ig. I do embrace thee, as I would embrace The Christian prince, king Henry, were he here. JMar. 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? ar. Such commendations as become a maid, A virgin, and his servant, say to him. Suff. Words sweetly plac'd, and modestly directed. But, madam, I must trouble you again,_ No loving token to his o JMar. Yes, my good lord; a pure unspotted
heart, Never yet taint with love, I send the king. Suff. And this withal. [Kisses her.
JMa... That for thyself:-I will not so presume, To set.d such peevish” tokens to a king. [Ereunt Reignier and Margaret. Suff. O, wert thou for myself!—But, Suffolk, stay; Thou may’st not wander in that labyrinth; There Minotaurs, and ugly treasons, lurk. Solicit Henry with her wond’rous praise: Bethink thee on her virtues that surmount; Mad, natural graces that extinguish art; Repeat their semblance often on the seas, That, when thou com'st to kneel at Henry's feet, Thou may'st bereave him of his wits with wonder. (Exit. (1) Play the hypocrite. (2) Childish. (3) Wild. (4) Untimely. (5) Miserheresimply meansamiserable creature.
SCENTE IP-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 timeless" cruel death? Ah, Joan, sweet daughter Joan, I'll die with thee! Puc. Decrepit miser's 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 begether, all the parish knows: Her mother liveth yet, can testify, She was the first fruit of my bachelorship. JP'ar. Graceless! wilt thou deny thy parentage? York. Thisargues whather kind of life hath been; Wicked and vile; and so her death concludes. Shep. Fie, Joan' that thou wilt be so obstacle!6 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.
Of thy nativity! I would, the milk -
(6) A corruption of obstinate. 7) ‘No, ye misconceivers, ye who mistake nie and my qualities.”