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Som. Come, go; I will dispatch the horse

men 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.

(Ereunt. [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. 5 But, О malignant and ill-boding stars! Now thou art come unto a feast of death, A rible 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, be gone.

John. Is my name Talbot ? and am I your 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 regard 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. 25 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. Tal. Part of thy father may be sav'd in

thee. John. No part of him but will be shame in 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 fiy. Tal. And leave my followers here to fight

and die ? My age was never tainted with such shame. John. And shall my youth be guilty of such

blame? No more can I be severed 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 by side together live and die; And soul with soul from France to heaven fly, ss

(Exeunt. (SCENE VI. A field of battle.] Alarum: excursions, wherein John Talbot is

hemmed about, and TALBOT rescues him.
Tal. Saint George and victory! fight, sol-

diers, fight!
The Regent hath with Talbot broke his word
And left us to the rage of France his sword.
Where is John Talbot ? Pause, and take thy

breath; I gave thee life and rescu'd thee from death. s 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'd 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 prond 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 rescued 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 thou not 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. 0, 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,

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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

All these and more we hazard by thy stay;
All these are say'd if thou wilt fly away.
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 ! Sarely, 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 field.) Alarum: excursions. Enter old TALBOT led (by

a SERVANT). Tal. Where is my other life ? mine own is

gone. 0, 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 sink and on my knee, 5 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 gụardant stood alone, Tend'ring my ruin and assail'd of none, Dizzyey'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 over-mounting spirit, and there died, My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride. Enter (Soldiers,) with 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, Two Talbots, winged through the lither sky, In thy despite shall scape mortality. O thou, whose wounds become hard-favoured

Death, Speak to thy father ere thou yield thy breath! Brave Death by speaking, whether he will or 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 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,


TARD, LA PUCELLE (and forces).
Char. Had York and Somerset brought res-

cue in, We should have found a bloody day of this. Bast. How the young whelp of Talbot's,

raging wood, Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood! Puc. Once I encount'red him, and thus I

said : “Thou maiden youth, bu vanquish'd by a

maid !” But, with a proud majestical high scorn, He answer'd thus : Young Talbot was not

born To be the pillage of a giglot wench.” So, rushing in the bowels of the French, He left me proudly, as unworthy fight. Bur. Doubtless he would have made a noble

knight. See, where he lies inhearsed in the arms Of the most bloody nurser of his harms ! Bast. Hew them to pieces, hack their bones

asunder, Whose life was England's glory, Gallia's won

der. Char. O, no, forbear! for that which we

have fled During the life, let us not wrong it dead. Enter SIR WILLIAM Lucy (attended ; Herald

of the French preceding). Lucy. Herald, 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! 't is a mere

French word ; We English warriors wot not what it means. 66 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. Lucy. But where's 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 Va

lence; Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield, Lord Strange of Blackmere, Lord Verdun of

Alton, Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, Lord Furnival of


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The thrice-victorious Lord of Falconbridge ;
Knight of the noble Order of Saint George,
Worthy Saint Michael, and the Golden Fleece;
Great marshal 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 magnifi'st 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 amongst 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. Puc. I think this upstart is old Talbot's

ghost, He speaks with such a proud commanding

spirit. For God's sake, let him have him. To keep

them here,
They would but stink, and putrefy the air.

Char. Go, take their bodies hence.
Lucy. I'll bear them hence; but from their

ashes shall be rear'd A phenix that shall make all France afeard. Char. So we be rid of them, do with them

what thou wilt. And now to Paris, in this conquering vein; All will be ours, now bloody Talbot 's slain.

(Exeunt. [ACT V] SCENE (I. London. The palace.] Sennet. Enter KING, GLOUCESTER, and ExE

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Proffers his only daughter to your Grace
In marriage, with a large and sumptuous dowry.
King. Marriage, uncle! Alas, my years are

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 WINCHESTER (in Cardinal's habit, a

LEGATE, and two) Ambassadors. Exe. What! is my Lord of Winchester in

stall’d, And callid 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." King. 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. Glou. And for the proffer of my lord your

master, I have inform'd 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. # King. (To the Amb.] In argument and proof

of which contract, Bear her this jewel, 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 (all but Winchester and

Legate), Win. Stay, my lord legate ; you shall first

receive The sum of money which I promised Should be delivered to his Holiness For clothing me in these grave ornaments. Leg. I will attend upon your lordship's

leisure. Win. (Aside.] Now Winchester will not sub

mit, I trow, Or be inferior to the proudest peer. Humphrey of Gloucester, thou shalt well per

ceive That, neither in birth or for authority, The Bishop will be overborne by thee. I'll either make thee stoop and bend thy knee, Or sack this country with a mutiny. (Exeunt.

SCENE (II. France. Plains in Anjou.] Enter CHARLES, BURGUNDY, ALENÇON, BASTARD, REIGNIER, LA PUCELLE (and forces). Char. These news, my lords, may cheer our

drooping spirits. 'Tis said the stout Parisians do revolt And turn again unto the warlike French.



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King. Have you perus’d the letters from the

Pope, The Emperor, and the Earl of Armagnac ? Glou. 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. King. How doth your Grace affect their mo

tion ? Glou. Well, my good lord ; and as the only To stop effusion of our Christian blood And stablish quietness on every side.

King. Ay, marry, uncle ; for I always thought It was both impious and unnatural That such immanity and bloody strife Shonld reign among professors of one faith.

Glou. Beside, my lord, the sooner to effect 16 And surer bind this knot of amity, The Earl of Armagnac, near knit to Charles, A man of great authority in France,



to us;






Alen. Then march to Paris, royal Charles of

France, And keep not back your powers in dalliance. 5

Puc. Peace be amongst them, if they turn Else, ruin combat with their palaces !

Enter Scout. Scout. Success unto our valiant general, And happiness to his accomplices ! Char. What tidings send our sconts? I pri

thee, speak. Scout. The English army, that divided was Into two parties, is now conjoin'd in one, And means to give you battle presently. Char. Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warn

ing 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 ac

curs'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!

(SCENE III. Before Angiers.)
Alarum. Excursions. Enter LA PUCELLE,
Puc. The Regent conquers, and the French-

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

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

Enter Fiends. This speedy and 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, 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 That France must vail her lofty-plumed crest And let her head fall into England's lap. My ancient incantations are too weak,

And hell too strong for me to buckle with. Now, France, thy glory droopeth to the dust.

[Erit. Excursions. Enter BURGUNDY and YORK fight

ing hand to hand. The French fly. [LÄ PuCELLE is brought in caplive.] York. Damsel of France, I think I have you

fast. Unchain your spirits now with spelling charms And try if they can gain your liberty. A goodly prize, fit for the devil's grace! See, how the ugly wench doth bend her brows, As if with Circe she would change my shape ! 35 Puc. Chang'd to a worser shape thou canst

not be. York. 0, Charles the Dauphin is a proper

man; No shape but his can please your dainty eye. Puc. A plaguing mischief light on Charles

and thee! And may ye both be suddenly surpris'd By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds! York. Fell banning hag, enchantress, hold

thy tongue! Puc. I prithee, give me leave to curse a while. York. Curse, miscreant, when thou com'st to the stake.

[Exeunt. Alarum. Enter SUFFOLK, with MARGARET in

his hand. Suf. Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner.

[Gazes on her. O fairest beauty, do not fear nor fly, For I will touch thee but with reverent hands. I kiss these fingers for eternal peace, And lay them gently on thy tender side. Who art thou ? say, that I may honour thee. bo Mar. Margaret my name, and daughter to a

king, The King of Naples, whosoe'er thou art.

Suf. An earl 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 prisoner underneath her wings. Yet, if this servile usage once offend, Go and be free again as Suffolk's friend,

[She is going. 0, stay! [Aside.) I have no power to let her

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. 65 I'll call for pen and ink, and write my mind. Fie, De la Pole! disable not thyself. Hast not a tongue? Is she not here? Wilt thou be daunted at a woman's sight? Ay, beauty's princely majesty is such, Confounds the tongue and makes the senses

rough. Mar. Say, Earl of Suffolk – if thy name be What ransom must I pay before I pass ? For I perceive I am thy prisoner.

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Suf. (Aside.] How canst thou tell she will

deny thy suit, Before thou make a trial of her love? Mar. Why speak'st thou not? What ransom

must I pay ? Suf. (Aside.) She's beautiful and therefore

to be woo'd; She is a woman, therefore to be won.

Mar. Wilt thou accept of ransom? yea, or Suf. (Aside.) Fond man, remember that thou

hast a wife; Then how.can Margaret be thy paramour ? Mar. I were best to leave him, for he will

not hear. Suf. (Aside.] There all is marr'd; there lies

a cooling card. Mar. He talks at random ; sure, the man is

mad. Suf. [Aside.) And yet a dispensation may

be had. Mar. And yet I would that you would an

swer me. Suf. {Aside.] I'll win this Lady Margaret.

For whom? Why, for my king. Tush, that's a wooden

thing! Mar. He talks of wood; it is some carpenter. Suf. (Aside.] Yet so my fancy may be sat

isfied, 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 is he poor, And our nobility will scorn the match. Mar. Hear ye, captain? Are you not at lei

sure? Suf. (Aside.) It shall be so, disdain they

ne'er so much.
Henry is youthful and will quickly yield.
Madam, I have a secret to reveal."
Mar. [Aside.) What though I be enthrall'd ?

He seems a knight,
And will not any way dishonour me.

Suf. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.
Mar. (Aside.) Perhaps I shall be rescu'd by

the French; And then I need not crave his courtesy.

Suf. Sweet madam, give me hearing in a Mar. [Aside.] Tush, women have been cap

tivate ere now. Suf. Lady, wherefore talk you so ?. Mar. I cry you mercy, 't is but quid for quo. Suf. Say, gentle princess, would you not

suppose Your bondage happy, to be made a queen ?

Mar. To be a queen in bondage is more vile Than is a slave in base servility; For princes should be free. Suf.

And so shall you, If happy England's royal king be free.

Mar. Why, what concerns his freedom unto Suf. I'll undertake to make thee Henry's

queen, To put a golden sceptre in thy hand


And set a precious crown upon thy head,
If thou wilt condescend to be my

What? 15
Suf. His love,
Mar. I am unworthy to be Henry's wife.

Suf. 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 you, madam, are ye so content?

Mar. An if my father please, I am content.
Suf. Then call our captains and our colours

And, madam, at your father's castle walls
We'll crave a parley, to confer with him.
A parley sounded. Enter REIGNIER On the walls.
See, Reignier, see, thy daughter prisoner!

Reig. To whom ?

Suffolk, what remedy?
I am a soldier and unapt to weep
Or to exclaim on fortune's fickleness.
Suf. 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. 1*

Reig. Speaks Suffolk as he thinks ?

Fair Margaret knows That Suffolk doth not flatter, face, or feign.

Reig. Upon thy princely warrant, I descend To give thee answer of thy just demand.

[Erit from the walls.) Suf. And here I will expect thy coming. 14 Trumpets sound. Enter REIGNIER [below). Reig. Welcome, brave earl, into our terri

tories! Command in Anjou what your honour pleases. Suf. 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

To be the princely bride of such a lord;
Upon condition I may quietly
Enjoy mine own, the country Maine and

Free from oppression or the stroke of war,
My daughter shall be Henry's, if he please.

Suf. 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. Suf. Reignier of France, I give thee kingly

thanks, Because this is in traffic of a king. (Aside.) And yet, methinks, I could be well







me ?


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