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A gentler heart did never sway in court:
But kings and mightiest potentates must die;
For that's the end of human misery. [Exeunt.
SCENE III. The same. The Plains near the City.
Enter CHARLES, the Bastard, ALENÇON, La
PUCELLE, and Forces.

Puc. Dismay not, princes, at this accident,
Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered;
Care is no cure, but rather corrosive,
For things that are not to be remedied.
Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while,
And like a peacock sweep along his tail:
We'll pull his plumes, and take away his train,
If Dauphin, and the rest, will be but rul'd.
Char. We have been guided by thee hitherto,
And of thy cunning had no diffidence ;
One sudden foil shall never breed distrust.

Bast. Search out thy wit for secret policies,
And we will make thee famous through the world.
Alen. We'll set thy statue in some holy place,
And have thee reverenc'd like a blessed saint;
Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good.
Puc. Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise:
By fair persuasions, mix'd with sugar'd words,
We will entice the duke of Burgundy
To leave the Talbot, and to follow us.

Char. Ay, marry, sweeting, if we could do that, France were no place for Henry's warriors; Nor should that nation boast it so with us, But be extirped1 from our provinces.

Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore.
Return thee, therefore, with a flood of tears,
And wash away thy country's stained spots!
Bur. Either she hath bewitch'd me with her words,
Or nature makes me suddenly relent.

Puc. Besides, all French and France exclaims or thee,

Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.
Who join'st thou with, but with a lordly nation,
That will not trust thee, but for profit's sake?
When Talbot hath set footing once in France,
And fashion'd thee that instrument of ill,
Who then but English Henry will be lord,
And thou be thrust out, like a fugitive?

Call we to mind,-and mark but this, for proof ;-
Was not the duke of Orleans thy foe?
And was he not in England prisoner?
But, when they heard he was thine enemy,
They set him free,3 without his ransom paid
In spite of Burgundy, and all his friends.
See then! thou fightest against thy countrymen,
And join'st with them will be thy slaughter-men.
Come, come, return; return, thou wand'ring lord,
Charles, and the rest, will take thee in their arms.

Bur. I am vanquished: these haughty words of hers

Have batter'd me like roaring cannon shot,
And made me almost yield upon my knees.-
Forgive me, country, and sweet countrymen!
And, lords, accept this hearty kind embrace:
My forces and my power of men are yours;

Alen. For ever should they be expuls'd2 from So, farewell, Talbot; I'll no longer trust thee.

France,

And not have title to an earldom here.

Puc. Your honours shall perceive how I will work, To bring this matter to the wished end.

[Drums heard. Hark! by the sound of drum, you may perceive Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward. An English March. Enter, and pass over at a distance, TALBOT and his Forces.

There
goes the Talbot with his colours spread;
And all the troops of English after him.

A French March. Enter the DUKE of BURGUNDY and Forces.

Now, in the rearward, comes the duke, and his; Fortune, in favour, makes him lag behind. Summon a parley, we will talk with him.

[A Parley sounded. Char. A parley with the duke of Burgundy. Bur. Who craves a parley with the Burgundy? Puc. The princely Charles of France, thy countryman.

Bur. What say'st thou, Charles? for I am marching hence.

Char. Speak, Pucelle; and enchant him with thy

words.

Puc. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France! Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee.

Bur. Speak on; but be not over-tedious.
Puc. Look on thy country, look on fertile France,
And see the cities and the towns defac'd
By wasting ruin of the cruel foe!

As looks the mother on her lowly babe,
When death doth close his tender dying eyes,
See, see, the pining malady of France;
Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,
Which thou thyself hast given her woeful breast!
O, turn thy edged sword another way;
Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help!
One drop of blood, drawn from thy country's bosom,

1 i. e. extirpated, rooted out.
2 Expuls'd is expell'd.

3 Another mistake. The duke was not liberated till after Burgundy's decline to the French interest; which did not happen, by the way, till some years after the execution of La Pucelle; nor was that during the regency of York, but of Bedford.

4 Haughty does not mean disdainful, or violent, as Johnson supposed; but elevated, high-spirited.

Puc. Done like a Frenchman, turn, and turn again !5

Char. Welcome, brave duke! thy friendship makes us fresh.

Bast. And doth beget new courage in our breasts. Alen. Pucelle hath bravely played her part in this, And doth deserve a coronet of gold.

Char. Now let us on, my lords, and join our

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peers,

Tal. My gracious prince, and honourable Hearing of your arrival in this realm, I have a while given truce unto my wars, To do my duty to my sovereign: In sign whereof, this arm-that hath reclaim'd To your obedience fifty fortresses, Twelve cities, and seven walled towns of strength, Beside five hundred prisoners of esteem,Lets fall his sword before your highness' feets And, with submissive loyalty of heart, Ascribes the glory of his conquest gol, First to my God, and next unto your grace.

K. Hen. Is this the Lord Talbot, uncle Gloster," That hath so long been resident in France?

Glo. Yes, if it please your majesty, my liege. K. Hen. Welcome, brave captain, and victcriou!! lord!

When I was young (as yet I am not old),

I do remember how my father said,"
A stouter champion never handled sword.
Long since we were resolved of your truth,
Your faithful service, and your toil in war;
Yet never have you tasted our reward,
Or been reguerdon'd' with so much as thanks,
Because till now we never saw your face:
Therefore, stand up; and, for these good deserts,
tion written to prove that the index of the wind upon our
steeples was made in form of a cock to ridicule the
French for their frequent changes.'

6 Hanmer supplied the apparent,deficiency in this line, by reading:

"Is this the fam'd Lord Talbot,' &c.

7 Malone remarks that 'Henry was but nine months old when his father died, and never saw him.' The

5 The inconstancy of the French was always the sub-poet did not perhaps deem historical accuracy necessary ject of satire. I have read (says Johnson) a disserta

8 Convinced.

9 Rewarded

We here create you earl of Shrewsbury; And in our coronation take your place.

[Exeunt KING HENRY, GLOSTER, TALBOT, and Nobles.

Ver. Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at sea, Disgracing of these colours1 that I wear In honour of my noble lord of York.Dar'st thou maintain the former words thou spak'st? Bas. Yes, sir; as well as you dare patronage The envious barking of your saucy tongue Against my lord the duke of Somerset. Ver. Sirrah, thy lord I honour as he is. Bas. Why, what is he? as good a man as York. Ver. Hark ye; not so: in witness, take ye that. [Strikes him. Bas. Villain, thou knowest the law of arms is such,

That whoso draws a sword, 'tis present death;2
Or else this blow should broach thy dearest blood.
But I'll unto his majesty, and crave

I may have liberty to venge this wrong;
When thou shalt see, I'll meet thee to thy cost.
Ver. Well, miscreant, I'll be there as soon as you;
And, after, meet you sooner than you would.
[Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. The same. A Room of State. Enter
KING HENRY, GLOSTER, EXETER, YORK, SUr-
FOLK, SOMERSET, WINCHESTER, WARWICK,
TALBOT, the Governor of Paris, and others.
Glo. Lord bishop, set the crown upon his head.
Win. God save King Henry, of that name the
sixth!

Glo. Now, governor of Paris, take your oath,
[Governor kneels.
That you elect no other king but him:
Esteem none friends, but such as are his friends;
And none your foes, but such as shall pretend3
Malicious practices against his state:
This shall ye do, so help you righteous God!
[Exeunt Gov. and his Train.

Enter SIR JOHN FASTOlfe.
Fast. My gracious sovereign, as I rode from
Calais,

T haste unto your coronation,
A letter was deliver'd to my hands,
Writ to your grace from the duke of Burgundy.

Tal. Shame to the duke of Burgundy, and thee!
I vow'd base knight, when I did meet thee next,
To tear the garter from thy craven's4 leg,

[Plucking it off. (Which I have done,) because unworthily Thou wast installed in that high degree.Pardon me, princely Henry, and the rest: This dastard, at the battle of Patay," When but in all I was six thousand strong, And that the French were almost ten to one,Before we met, or that a stroke was given, Like to a trusty squire, did run away; In which assault we lost twelve hundred men ; Myself, and divers gentlemen beside, Were there surpris'd and taken prisoners. Then judge, great lords, if I have done amiss;

1 i. e. the badge of a rose.

2 By the ancient law before the conquest, fighting in the king's palace, or before the king's judges, was punished with death. And still by the Stat. 33 Hen. VIII. c. xii. maliciously striking in the king's palace, whereby blood is drawn, is punishable by perpetual imprisonment and fine, at the king's pleasure, and also with loss of the offender's right hand. Stowe gives a circumstantial account of Sir Edmond Knevet being found guilty of this offence, with the ceremonials for carrying the sentence into execution. He petitioned the king to take his left hand instead of his right; and the king was pleased to pardon him altogether.-Annals, edit. 1605, p. 979.

3 To pretend is to intend, to design.

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4 Warburton would read thy craven leg. Craven ls mean, dastardly.

Or whether that such cowards ought to wear
This ornament of knighthood, yea, or no

Glo. To say the truth, this fact was infamous,
And ill beseeming any common man ;
Much more a knight, a captain, and a leader.

Tal. When first this order was ordain'd, my lords,
Knights of the garter were of noble birth:
Valiant, and virtuous, full of haughty courage,
Such as were grown to credit by the wars;
Not fearing death, nor shrinking for distress,
But always resolute in most extremes."
He then, that is not furnish'd in this sort,
Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight,
Profaning this most honourable order;
And should, (if I were worthy to be judge,)
Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain
That doth presume to boast of gentle blood.
K. Hen. Stain to thy countrymen! thou hear's!
thy doom:

Be packing therefore, thou that wast a knight;
Henceforth we banish thee, on pain of death.-
[Exit FASTOLFE
And now, my lord protector, view the letter
Sent from our uncle duke of Burgundy.
Glo. What means his grace, that he hath chang'd
his style? [Viewing the superscription.
superscription.
No more but, plain and bluntly,-To the king?
Hath he forgot, he is his sovereign?
Or doth this churlish superscription
Pretend some alteration in good will?
What's here ?—I have upon especial cause,—,

[Reads.

Mov'd with compassion of my country's wreck,
Together with the pitiful complaints
Of such as your oppression feeds upon,
Forsaken your pernicious faction,

And join'd with Charles, the rightful king of
France.

O monstrous treachery! Can this be so;
That in alliance, amity, and oaths,
There should be found such false dissembling guile ?
K. Hen. What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt?
Glo. He doth, my lord; and is become your foe.
K. Hen. Is that the worst this letter doth contain?
Glo. It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes.
K. Hen. Why then, Lord Talbot there shall talk
with him,

And give him chastisement for this abuse:
My lord, how say you? are you not content?
Tal. Content, my liege? Yes; but that I am
prevented,

I should have begg'd I might have been employ'd. K. Hen. Then gather strength, and march unto him straight:

Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason;
And what offence it is, to flout his friends.
Tal. I go, my lord; in heart desiring still,
You
may behold confusion of your foes.

[Exit.

Enter VERNON and BASSET. Ver. Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign Bas. And me, my lord, grant me the combat too. York. This is my servant; hear him, noble prince Som. And this is mine; Sweet Henry, favour him' K. Hen. Be patient, lords; and give them leave

to speak.-

Say, gentlemen, What makes you thus exclaim? And wherefore crave you combat? or with whom?

5 The old copy has Poictiers instead of Patay. The battle of Poictiers was fought in 1357, the 31st of King Edward III. and the scene now lies in the 7th of King Henry VI. viz. 1428. The action happened (according to Holinshead) 'neere unto a village in Beausse, called Pataie.-From this battel departed, without any stroke stricken, Sir John Fastolfe, the same yeere by his va liantnese elected into the order of the garter. But for doubt of misdealing at this brunt, the duke of Bedford tooke from him the image of St. George and his garter &c.

6 Vide note 8 on p. 13; and note 4 on p. 17.

7 i. e. in greatest extremities. More and met wae used by our ancestors for greater and greatest 8 See note 3.

9 Prevented is anticipated

Ver. With him, my lord, for he hath done me | Let me be umpire in this doubtful s rife.
I see no reason, if I wear this rose,

wrong.

Bas. And I with him; for he hath done me wrong.
K. Hen. What is that wrong whereof you both
complain?

First let me know, and ther. I'll answer you.
Bas. Crossing the sea, from England into France,
This fellow here, with envious, carping tongue,
Upbraided me about the rose I wear;
Saying the sanguine colour of the leaves
Did represent my master's blushing cheeks,
When stubbornly he did repugn1 the truth,
About a certain question in the law,

Argu'd betwixt the duke of York and him;
With other vile and ignominious terms:
In confutation of which rude reproach,
And in defence of my lord's worthiness,
I crave the benefit of law of arms.

Ver. And that is my petition, noble lord;
For though he seem, with forged quaint conceit,
To set a gloss upon his bold intent,

Yet know, my lord, I was provok'd by him;
And he first took exceptions at this badge,
Pronouncing--that the paleness of this flower
Bewray'd2 the faintness of my master's heart.

York. Will not this malice, Somerset, be left?
Som. Your private grudge, my lord of York, will
out,

Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it.

[Putting on a red Rose,
That any one should therefore be suspicious
I more incline to Somerset than York:
Both are my kinsmen, and I love them both:
As well may they upbraid me with my crown,
Because, forsooth, the king of Scots is crown'd.
But your discretions better can persuade,
Than I am able to instruct or teach:
And therefore, as we hither came in peace,
So let us still continue peace and love.-
Cousin of York, we institute your grace
To be our regent in these parts of France:
And good my lord of Somerset, unite
Your troops of horsemen with his bands of foot
;
And, like true subjects, sons of your progenitors,
Go cheerfully together, and digest
Your angry choler on your enemies.
Ourself, my lord protector, and the rest,
After some respite, will return to Calais
From thence to England; where I hope ere long
To be presented by your victories,
With Charles, Alençon, and that traitorous rout.
[Flourish. Exeunt K. HEN. GLO. SOM.
WIN. SUF. and BASSET.
War. My lord of York, I promise you, the king
Prettily, methought, did play the orator.
York. And so he did; but yet I like it not,

K. Hen. Good lord! what madness rules in brain-In that he wears the badge of Somerset.

sick men;

When for so slight and frivolous a cause,
Such actious emulations shall arise!-
Good cousins both, of York and Somerset,
Quie yourselves, I pray, and be at peace,

Yak. Let this dissension first be tried by fight,
And then your highness shall command a peace.
Som. The quarrel toucheth none but us alone;
Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then.
York. There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset.
Ver. Nay, let it rest where it began at first.
Bas. Confirm it so, mine honourable lord.
Glo. Confirm it so? Confounded be your strife!
And perish ye, with your audacious prate!
Presumptuous vassals! are you not asham'd,
With this immodest, clamorous outrage
To trouble and disturb the king and us
And you, my lords,-methinks you do not well,
To bear with their perverse objections;
Much less, to take occasion from their mouths
To raise a mutiny betwixt yourselves;
Let me persuade you take a better course.
Exe. It grieves his highness;-Good my lords,

be friends.

K. Hen. Come hither, you that would be com-
batants:

Henceforth, I charge you, as you love our favour,
Quite to forget this quarrel and the cause.-
And you, my lords,-remember where we are:
In France, amongst a fickle wavering nation:
If they perceive dissension in our looks,
And that within ourselves we disagree,
How will their grudging stomachs be provok'd
To wilful disobedience, and rebel?
Beside, What infamy will there arise,
When foreign princes shall be certified,
That, for a toy, a thing of no regard,
King Henry's peers, and chief nobility,
Destroy'd themselves, and lost the realm of France?
O, think upon the conquest of my father,
My tender years; and let us not forego
That for a trifle, that was bought with blood!

1 To repugn is to resist. From the Latin repugno. 2 i. e. discovered.

3 The old copy reads 'And if I wish he did :' an evident typographical error. York says that he is not pleased that the king should prefer the red rose, the badge of Somerset, his enemy; Warwick desires him not to be offended at it, as he dares say the king meant no harm. To which York, yet unsatisfied, hastily replies in a menacing tone, If I thought he did :—but |

War. Tush! that was but his fancy, blame him

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For, had the passions of thy heart burst out,
I fear we should have seen decipher'd there
More rancorous spite, more furious raging broils,
Than yet can be imagin'd or suppos'd.
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,4 when sceptres are in children's hands;
But more, when envy breeds unkind division;
There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.
[Exit.

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SCENE II. France. Before Bordeaux. Enter
TALBOT, with his Forces.

Tal. Go to the gates of Bordeaux, 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 proffer'd 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 our love."

Gen. Thou ominous and fearful owl of death,
Our nation's terror, and their bloody scourge !

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The period of my tyranny approacheth.
On us thou car.st uot 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 pitch'd,
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 artillery1

Upon no Christian soul but English Talbot.
Lo! there thou stand'st, a breathing valiant man,
Of an invincible unconquer'd spirit:
This is the latest glory of thy praise,
That I, thy enemy, due2 thee withal;

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York. He dies, we lose; I break my warlike word;
We mourn, France smiles; we lose, they daily get;
All 'long of this vile traitor Somerset.

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 wither'd, bloody, pale, and dead.
[Drum afar off.
Hark! hark! the Dauphin's drum, a warning bell,
Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul
;
And mine shall ring thy dire departure out.
[Exeunt General, &c. from the Walls.
Tal. He fables not,3 I hear the enemy;-
Out, some light horsemen, and peruse their wings.-Away! vexation almost stops my breath,

Lucy. Then, God take mercy on brave Talbot's
soul!

And on his son, young John; whom, two hours
since,

O, negligent and heedless discipline!
How are we park'd, and bounded in a pale ;
A little herd of England's timorous deer,
Maz'd with a yelping kennel of French curs!
If we be English deer, be then in blood :4
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.

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York. A plague upon that villain Somerset ;
That thus delays my promised supply
Of horsemen, that were levied for this siege!
Renowned Talbot doth expect my aid
And I am louted 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 strength,

1 'To rive their dangerous artillery' is merely a figurative way of expressing to discharge it. To rive is to burst; and burst is applied by Shakspeare more than once to thunder, or to a similar sound.

2 Due for endue, or giving due and merited praise. 3 So Milton's Comus:

'She fables not, I feel that I do fear.'

4 In blood is a term of the forest; a deer was said to be in blood when in vigour or in good condition, and full of courage, here put in opposition to rascal, which was the term for the same animal when lean and out of condition.

5 Spies 6 To lowt may signify to depress, to lower, to dishonour,' says Johnson: but in his Dictionary he explains it to overpower Steevens knows not what to make of it to let down, to he subdued, or vanquished,

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I met in travel toward his warlike father!
This seven years did not Talbot see his son ;
And now they meet where both their lives are done."
York. Alas! what joys shall noble Talbot have,
To bid his young son welcome to his grave?

That sunder'd friends greet in the hour of death.—
Lucy, farewell: no more my fortune can,
But curse the cause I cannot aid the man.-
Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won away,
'Long all of Somerset, and his delay.

[Exit.

Lucy. Thus, while the vulture of sedition
Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders,
Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss
The conquest of our scarce-cold conqueror,
That ever-living man of memory,
Henry the Fifth-Whiles they each other cross,
Lives, honours, lands, and all, hurry to loss. [Exit.
SCENE IV. Other Plains of Gascony.
SOMERSET, with his Forces; an Officer of TAL-
BOT's with him.

Enter

Som. It is too late; I cannot send them now.
Too rashly plotted; all our general force
This expedition was by York, and Talbot,
Be buckled with the over-daring Talbot
Might with a sally of the very town
Hath sullied all his gloss of former honour,
By this unheedful, desperate, wild adventure:
York set him on to fight, and die in shame,
That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the name.
Off. Here is Sir William Lucy, who with me
Set from our o'ermatch'd forces forth for aid.

Enter SIR WILLIAM LUCY.

Som. How now, Sir William? whither were you

sent?

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And whiles the honourable captain there
Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs,
And, in advantage ling'ring,' looks for rescue,
You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honour,
Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.2
Let not your private discord keep away
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.

Som. York lies; he might have sent and had the

horse:

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.
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 Bordeaux.
Enter TALBOT and JOHN his Son.

you.

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,3
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. 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 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?

My age was never tainted with such shame.
John. And shall my youth be guilty 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 by side together live and die;
And soul with soul from France to heaven fly.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI. A Field of Battle. Alarum: Excursions, wherein TALBOT's Son is hemmed about, and TALBOT rescues him.

Tal. Saint George and victory! fight, soldiers,
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.

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 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

John. Is my name Talbot? and am I your son? From thee, my boy; and had the maidenhood

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.5

;

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.
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 ?

1 Protracting his resistance by the advantage of a strong post.

2 Emulation here signifies envious rivalry, not struggle for superior excellence.

3 To a field where death will be feasted with slaughter.

4 Unavoided for unavoidable. 5For what reason this scene is written in rhyme (says Dr. Johnson) I cannot guess. If Shakspeare had not in other plays mingled his rhymes and blank verses

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.
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,

in the same manner, I should have suspected that this
dialogue had been part of some other poem, which was
never finished, and that being loath to throw his labour
away, he inserted it here.' Mr. Boswell remarks that
it was a practice common to all Shakspeare's contem-
poraries.

6 Your care of your own safety.

7 Determined here must signify prescribed, limited, appointed; and not ended, as Steevens and Malone concur in explaining it. John could not be meant to sav that his time of life was actually ended.

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