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But howsoe'er, no simple man that sees
This jarring discord of nobility,
This should'ring of each other in the court,
This factious bandying of their favourites,
But that it doth presage some ill event.
"Tis much when sceptres are in children's lands;
But more when envy breeds unkind division :
There comes the ruin, there begins confusion !

[Exil.

Hark, hark! the Dauphin's drum, a warning beil,
Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul ;
And mine shall ring thy dire departure out.

[Exeunt General, fc., from the walls. Tal. He fables not; I hear the enemy: Out, some light horsemen, and peruse their

wings.O negligent and heedless discipline ! How are we parked and bounded in a pale: A little herd of England's timorous deer, Mazed with a yelping kennel of French curs ! If we be English deer, be then in blood : Not, rascal-like, to fall down with a pinch; But rather, moody-mad and desperate stags, Turn on the bloody hounds with heads of steel, And make the cowards stand aloof at bay. Sell every man his life as dear as mine, And they shall find dear deer of us, my friends.God and Saint George! Talbot and England's

right! Prosper our colours in this dangerous fight.

[Exeunt.

Scene II.-Before Bourdeaux.

Enter Talbot, with his Forces. Tal. Go to the gates of Bourdeaux, trumpeter : Summon their general unto the wall. Trumpet sounds a parley. Enter on the walls the

General of the French Forces, and others. English John Talbot, captains, calls you forth, Servant in arms to Harry, King of England And thus he would:-Open your city gates; Be humble to us; call my sovereign yours, And do him homage as obedient subjects, And I'll withdraw me and my bloody power: But if you frown upon this proffered peace, You tempt the fury of my three attendants, Lean famine, quartering steel, and climbing fire: Who, in a moment, even with the earth Shall lay your stately and air-braving towers, If you forsake the offer of their love.

Gen. Thou ominous and fearful owl of death, Our nation's terror and their bloody scourge, The period of thy tyranny approacheth. On us thou canst not enter but by death: For I protest we are well fortified, And strong enough to issue out and fight: If thou retire, the Dauphin, well appointed, Stands with the snares of war to tangle thee. On either hand thee there are squadrons pitched, To wall thee from the liberty of flight: And no way canst thou turn thee for redress, But death doth front thee with apparent spoil, And pale destruction meets thee in the face. Ten thousand French have ta'en the sacrament To rive their dangerous artillery Upon no christian soul but English Talbot. Lo! there thou stand'st, a breathing valiant man, Of an invincible unconquered spirit: This is the latest glory of thy praise, That I, thy enemy, due thee withal; For ere the glass that now begins to run Finish the process of his sandy hour, These eyes, that see thee now well coloured, Shall see thee withered, bloody, pale, and dead.

[Drums afar off.

Scene III.-Plains in Gascony. Enter York with Forces; to him, a Messenger.

York. Are not the speedy scouts returned again, That dogged the mighty army of the Dauphin! Ness. They are returned, my lord; and give it

out That he is marched to Bourdeaux with his power, To fight with Talbot. As he marched along, By your espials were discovered Two mightier troops than that the Dauphin led ; Which joined with him, and made their march

for Bourdeaux. York. A plague upon that villain Somerset, That thus delays my promised supply Of horsemen that were levied for this siege ! Renownéd Talbot doth expect my aid ; And I am lowted by a traitor villain, And cannot help the noble chevalier : God comfort him in this necessity ! If he miscarry, farewell wars in France.

Enter Sir William Lucy. Lucy. Thou princely leader of our English

strengtlı, Never so needful on the earth of France, Spır to the rescue of the noble Talbot; Who now is girdled with a waist of iron, And hemmed about with grim destruction : To Bourdeaux, warlike duke! to Bourdeaux, York Else, farewell Talbot, France, and England's

honour.

York. O God! that Somerset, who in prond

Eater SIE WILLIAM Lucr. heart

Som. How now, Sir William: whither were Doth stop my cornets, were in Talbot's place!

you sent! So should we save a valiant gentleman,

Lucy. Whither, my lord! from bought-andBy forfeiting a traitor and a coward.

sold Lord Talbot; Mad ire and wrathful fury makes me seep, Who, ringed about with bold adversity, That thus we die while remiss traitors sleep.

Cries out for noble York and Somerset, Lucy. O send some succour to the distressed to beat assailing death from his weak legions. lord!

And whiles the honourable captain there York. He dies, we lose; I break my warlike 'Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs, word;

| And, in advantage lingering, looks for rescue, We mourn, France smiles; we lose, they daily get:

You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honour, All 'long of this vile traitor Somerset!

Keep off aloof with worthless emulation. Lucy. Then, God take mercy on brave Talbot's Let not your private discord keep away soul!

The levied succours that should lend him zid, And on his son, young Jolin; whom, two hours While he, renowned noble gentleman, since,

Yields up his life unto a world of odds: I met in travel towards his warlike father. Orleans the bastard, Charles, Burgundy, This seren years did not Talbot see his son ;

Alençon, Reignier, compass him about And now they meet when both their lives are !

And Talbot perisheth by your default. done.

Som. York set him on; York should hare York. Alas! what joy shall noble Talbot have

sent him aid. To bid his young son welcome to his grave! Lucy. And York as fast upon your grace esAway! vexation almost stops my breath,

claims; That sundered friends greet in the hour of death.

Svearing that you withhold his levied host, Lucy, farewell: no more my fortune can, Collected for this expedition. But curse the cause I cannot aid the man.

Som. York lies; he might hare sent and had Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won

the horse. away,

I owe him little duty, and less love; ’Long all of Somerset and his delay. [Ezil.

And take foul scorn to fawn on him by sending, Lucy. Thus, while the rulture of sedition

Lycy. The fraud of England, not the force of Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders,

France, Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss

llath now entrapped the noble-minded Talbot: The conquest of our scarce-cold conqueror,

Never to England shall he bear his life; That ever-living man of memory,

But dies betrayed to fortune by your strife. llenry the fifth :—whiles they each other cross,

Som. Come, go; I will despatch the horsemen Lives, honours, lands, and all, hurry to loss!

straight:
[Exit. Within six hours they will be at his aid.

Lucy. Too late comes rescue; he is ta'en or

slain : Scene IV.-Other plains of Gascony.

For fly he could not, if he would have fled;

And fly would Talbot never, though he might. Enter Somerset, with his Forces; an Officer of

Som. If he be dead, brave Talbot then adieu ! Talbot's with him.

Lucy. His fame lives in the world, bis shame

(Exeunt. Som. It is too late; I cannot send them noir. This expedition was by York and Talbot Too rashly plotted: all our general force Miglit with a sally of the very town

Scene V.- The English Camp, near Bourdeaux. Be buckled with. The over-daring Talbot Hath sullied all his gloss of former honour,

Enter Talbot and Joux his Son. By this unheedful, desperate, wild adventure. Tal. O young John Talbot, I did send for thee York set him on to fight and die in shame, To tutor thee in stratagems of war; That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the That Talbot's name might be in thee revived, name.

When sapless age and weak unable limbs Off. Here is Sir William Lucy, who with me Should bring thy father to his drooping chair: Set from our o'ermatched forces forth for aid. But-0 malignant and ill-boding stars !-

in you.

Now thou art come unto a feast of death,

Scene VI.-A Field of Battle.
A terrible and unavoided danger:
Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swiftest horse ;

Alarum ; Excursions, wherein Talbor's Son is And I'll direct thee how thou shalt escape

hemmed about, and Talbot rescues him. By sudden fight. Come, dally not; begone. Tal. Saint George and victory !-Fight, sol. John. Is my name Talbot; and am I your son?

diers, figlit! And shall I fly? O, if you love my mother, The regent hath with Talbot broke his word, Dishonour not her honourable name,

And left us to the rage of France his sword. To make a bastard and a slave of me.

Where is John Talbot ?—Pause, and take thy The world will say, he is not Talbot's blood,

breath: That basely fled when noble Talbot stood. I gave thee life, and rescued thee from death.

Tal. Fly, to revenge my death if I be slain. John. O twice my father! twice am I thy son. John. He that flies so, will ne'er return again. The life thou gav'st me first was lost and done, Tal. If we both stay, we both are sure to die. Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate,

John. Then let me stay, and, father, do you fly. To my determined time thou gav’st new date. Your loss is great, so your regard should be: Tal. When from the Dauphin's crest thy My worth unknown, no loss is known in me.

sword struck fire, Upon my death the French can little boast : It warmed thy father's heart with proud desire In yours they will; in you all hopes are lost. Of bold-faced victory. Then leaden age, Flight cannot stain the honour you have won; Quickened with youthful spleen and warlike rage, But mine it will, that no exploit have done : Beat down Alençon, Orleans, Burgundy, You fied for vantage every one will swear; And from the pride of Gallia rescued thee. But if I bow, they 'll say it was for fear.

The ireful bastard Orleans that drew blood There is no lope that ever I will stay,

From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood If the first hour I shrink and run away.

Of thy first fight, I soon encounteréd; Here, on my knee, I beg mortality,

And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed Rather than life preserved with infamy.

Some of his bastard blood; and, in disgrace, Tal. Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one Bespoke him thus: “Contaminated, base, tomb?

And misbegotten blood I spill of thine, John. Ay, rather than I'll shame my mother's Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine womb.

Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave Tal. Upon my blessing I command thee go.

boy:" John. To fight I will, but not to fly the foe. Here, purposing the bastard to destroy, Tal. Part of thy father may be saved in thee. Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father's care: John. No part of him but will be shame in me. Art not thou weary, Johin? how dost thou fare? Tal. Thou never had'st renown, nor canst not Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly, lose it.

Now thou art sealed the son of chivalry? John. Yes, your renowned name: shall flight Fly, to revenge my death when I am dead : abuse it?

The help of one stands me in little stead. Tal. Thy father's charge shall clear thee from O too much folly is it, well I wot, that stain.

To hazard all our lives in one small boat. John. You cannot witness for me, being slain. If I to-day die not with Frenchmen's rage, If death be so apparent, then both fly.

To-morrow I shall die with mickle age. Tal. And leave my followers here, to fight By me they nothing gain an if I stay; and die?

"T is but the short'ning of my life one day: My age was never tainted with such shame. In thee thy mother dies, our household's name, John. And shall my youth be guilty of such My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's blame?

fame: No more can I be severed from your side All these and more we hazard by thy stay: Than can yourself yourself in twain divide. All these are saved if thou wilt fly away. Stay; go; do what you will, the like do I: John. The sword of Orleans hath not made For live I will not if my father die.

me sinart ; Tal. Then here I take my leave of thee, fair son, These words of yours draw life-blood from my Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon.

neart. Come, side by side together live and die; On that advantage, bought with such a shame And soul with soul from France to heaven fly. (To save a paltry life and slay bright fame),

(Exeunt. 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 proved, 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: Owhere's young Talbot; where is valiant John? Triumphant death, smeared with captivity, Young Talbot's valour makes me smile at thee. When he perceived me shrink, and on my knee, His bloody sword he brandished 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 and assailed of none,
Dizzy-eyed fury and great rage of heart
Suddenly made him from my side to start
Into the clustering 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 liere

to scorn,
Anon, from thy insulting tyranny,
Coupled in bonds of perpetuity,
Two Talbots, wingéd through the lither sky,
In thy despite shall 'scape mortality.-
Othou whosewounds become hard-favoured 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 arms are young John Talbot's g

s grare. (Dies

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Alarums. Exeunt Soldiers and Servant, leaving Lucy. Where is the great Alcides of the field,

the two bodies. Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, Valiant Lord Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury !
BURGUNDY, BAStard, La Pucelle, and Forces. Created, for his rare success in arms,
Char. Had York and Somerset brought rescue in,

Great Earl of Washford, Waterford, and Valence;
We should have found a bloody day of this. Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield,
Bast. How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging- ! Lord Strange of Blackmere, Lord Verdun of Alton,
wood,

Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, Lord Furnival of Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood !

Sheffield; Puc. Once I encountered him, and thus I said :

The thrice victorious Lord of Falconbridge ; " Thou maiden youth, be vanquished by a maid :" Knight of the noble order of Saint George, But, with a proud, majestical high scorn,

Worthy Saint Michael, and the Golden Fleece; He answered thus: “Young Talbot was not born Great mareshal to Henry the sixth, To be the pillage of a giglet wench:”

Of all his wars within the realın of France. So, rushing in the bowels of the French,

Puc. Here is a silly stately style indeed! He left me proudly, as unworthy fight.

The Turk, that two-and-fifty kingdoms hath, Bur. Doubtless he would have made a noble

Writes not so tedious a style as this.knight.

Him that thou magnifiest with all these titles, See where he lies, inherséd in the arms

Stinking and fly-blown, lies here at our feet. Of the most bloody nurser of his harms.

Lucy. Is Talbot slain; the Frenchmen's only Bast. Hew them to pieces, hack their bones scourge, asunder;

Your kingdom's terror and black Nemesis ? Whose life was England's glory, Gallia's wonder. O were mine eyeballs into bullets turned, Char. Oh no; forbear: for that which we That I, in rage, might shoot them at your faces! have fled

O that I could but call these dead to life! During the life, let us not wrong it dead. It were enough to fright the realm of France :

Were but his picture left among you here, Enter Sir William Lucy, attended; a French It would amaze the proudest of you all. Herald preceding.

Give me their bodies, that I may bear them hence, Lucy. Herald, conduct me to the Dauphin's tent, And give them burial as beseems their worth. To know who have obtained the glory of the Puc. I think this upstart is old Talbot's ghost, day.

He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit. Char. On what submissive message art thou For God's sake let him have 'em: to keep them here sent ?

They would but stink, and putrefy the air. Lucy. Submission, Dauphin! 't isa mere French Char. Go, take their bodies hence. word.

Lucy. I 'll bear them hence: We English warriors wot not what it means. But from their ashes shall be reared I come to know what prisoners thou hast ta’en, A phenix that shall make all France afeard. And to survey the bodies of the dead.

Char. So we be rid of them, do with 'em what Char. For prisoners ask'st thou? hell our

thou wilt. prison is.

And now to Paris in this conquering vein: But tell me whom thou seek'st.

All will be ours, now bloody Talbot 's slain.

Excunt.

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