And on his son, young John; whom two hours since,
I met in travel toward his warlike father.
These seven years did not Talbot see his son ;
And now they meet where both their lives are done.
York. Alas! what joy shall noble Talbot have,
To bid his young son welcome to his grave?
Away! vexation almost stops my breath,
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.
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.
SCENE IV.- Other Plains of Gascony.
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
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.
[Exeunt.
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,
A terrible and unavoided 8 danger :
Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swiftest horse;
And I'll direct thee how thou shalt escape
Enter SOMERSET, with his Forces; an Officer of By sudden flight: come, dally not; begone.
Som. It is too late; I cannot send them now:
This expedition was by York, and Talbot,
Too rashly plotted; all our general force
Might with a sally of the very town
Be buckled with: the over-daring Talbot
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'er-match'd forces forth for aid.
Enter SIR WILLIAM LUCY.
Som. How now, sir William? whither were you
Lucy. Whither, my lord? from bought and sold
lord Talbot;
Who, ring'd about 7 with bold adversity,
Cries out for noble York and Somerset,
To beat assailing death from his weak legions.
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.
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 exclaims; Swearing that you withhold his levied horse, Collected for this expedition.
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 regard 9 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.
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?
Som. York lies; he might have sent and had the No more can I be severed from your side,
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
Hath now entrapp'd the noble-minded Talbot:
Never to England shall he bear his life;
But dies, betray'd to fortune by your strife.
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.
9 Your care of your own safety.
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,
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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, and 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,
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 shaine'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.
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 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 JOHNTALBOT. Serv. O, my dear lord! lo, where your son is borne !
Tal. Thou antick death, which laugh'st us here to
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-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 arms 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,
We should have found a bloody day of this.
Bast. How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging
Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood!
Puc. Once I encounter'd him, and thus I said,
Thou maiden youth, be 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 anoble knight.
Sce, where he lies inhersed in the arms
Of the most bloody nurser of his harms.
Bast. Hew them to pieces, hack their bones asun
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
3" Watching me with tenderness in my fall." 5 Raving mad.
We 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.
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,
Bloody and breathless lies here at our feet.
Lucy. Is Talbot slain; the Frenchmen's only
Your kingdom's terrour 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.
Puc. I think, this upstart is old Talbot's ghost, He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit. But let him have 'em.
Char. Take their bodies hence.
Lucy.
I'll bear them hence :
But from their ashes shall be rear'd
A phoenix that shall make all France afeard.
Char. So we be rid of them, do with 'em what
SCENE I.- London. A Room in the Palace.
Enter KING HENRY, GLOSTER, and Exeter.
K. Hen. Have you perus'd the letters from the
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 motion? 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 7 and bloody strife Should reign among professors of one faith. 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.
Exe. 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 prophecy,—
If once he came 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 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.
K. Hen. In argument and proof of which contract, Bear her this jewel, [To the Amb.] pledge of my
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. Humphrey of Gloster, thou shalt well perceive, 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, LA PUCELLE, and Forces, marching.
Char. These news, my lords, may cheer ou drooping spirits:
O fairest beauty, do not fear, nor fly;
For I will touch thee but with reverent hands,
'Tis said, the stout Parisians do revolt,
And turn again unto the warlike French.
Alen. Then march to Paris, royal Charles of And lay them gently on thy tender side.
And keep not back your powers in dalliance.
I kiss these fingers [Kissing her hand.] for eternal
Puc. Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us; Who art thou? say, that I may honour thee. Else, ruin combat with their palaces!
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.
Mar. Margaret my name; and daughter to a king,
The king of Naples, whosoe'er thou art.
Suf. And earl I am, and Suffolk am I call'd.
Be not offended, nature's miracle,
So doth the swan her downy cygnets save,
Thou art allotted to be ta'en by me:
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.
Char. Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warning is; O, stay!-I have no power to let her pass;
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 for-
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.- Before Angiers.
Enter LA PUCELLE.
Puc. The regent conquers, and the Frenchmen
fly.-
Now help, ye charming spells, and periapts 8;
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 9,
Appear, and aid me in this enterprize!
No, they forsake me.
Then 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.
Alarums. Enter French and English fighting. LA
PUCELLE and YORK fight hand to hand.
The French fly.
CELLE is taken.
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.
See how the ugly witch doth bend her brows,
As if, with Circe, she would change my shape.
Puc. Chang'd to a worser shape thou canst not be.
York. O, Charles the dauphin is a proper man:
No shape but his can please your dainty eye.
Puc. A plaguing mischief light on Charles, and
And may ye both be suddenly surpriz'd
By bloody hands, in sleeping on your beds!
York. Fell, banning? hag! enchantress, hold thy
tongue.
Puc. I pr'ythee, give me leave to curse a while.
York. Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the
[Exeunt.
stake.
Enter SUFFOLK, leading in LADY
MARGARET.
Suf. Be what thou wilt, thou art my prisoner.
8 Charms worn about the person.
9 The north was supposed to be the particular habitation of bad spirits.
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 :
Fye, De la Poole! disable not thyself3;
I'll call for pen and ink, and write my mind:
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,
Mar. Say, earl of Suffolk,—if thy name be so,-
?
before I pass
pay
Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses rough,
What ransome must I
For, I perceive, I am thy prisoner.
Suf. How canst thou tell, she will deny thy suit,
[Aside.
Before thou make a trial of her love?
Mar. Why speak'st thou not? what ransome
must I pay?
Suf. She's beautiful; and therefore to be woo'd : [Aside. She is a woman; therefore to be won.
Mar. Wilt thou accept of ransome, yea, or no?
Suf. Fond man! remember that thou hast a wife;
Then how can Margaret be thy paramour? [Aside.
Mar. I were best leave him, for he will not hear.
Suf. There all is marr'd; there lies a cooling card.
Mar. He talks at random; sure the man is mad.
Suf. And yet a dispensation may be had.
Mar. And yet I would that you would answer me,
Suf. I'll win this lady Margaret for my king,
And 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 is he poor,
And our nobility will scorn the match.
Mar. Hear ye, captain? Are you not at leisure?
Suf. It shall be so, disdain they near so much :
Henry is youthful, and will quickly yield.
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Suf. Lady, vouchsafe to listen what I say.
Mar. Perhaps, I shall be rescued by the French;
[Aside.
And then I need not crave his courtesy.
Suf. Sweet madam, give me hearing in a cause —
Mar. Tush! women have been captivate ere now.
[Aside.
Suf. Lady, wherefore talk you so?
Mar. I cry you mercy, 'tis but quid for quo.
3" Do not represent thyself so weak."
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 you so content.
Mar. An if my father please, I am content.
Suf. 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.
| 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, [Going.
Shall Suffolk ever have of Margaret.
Suf. 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.
Suf. Words sweetly plac'd, and modestly directed. But, madam, I must trouble you again,— No loving token to his majesty?
Mar. Yes, my good lord; a pure unspotted heart, Never yet taint with love, I send the king.
[Kisses her. Mar. That for thyself; - I will not so presume, To send such peevish 6 tokens to a king.
[Exeunt REIGNIER and MARGARET. Suf. O,wert thou for myself! But, Suffolk, stay; Thou mayst 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; Her natural graces that extinguish art; Repeat their semblance often on the seas, Suffolk, what remedy? That, when thou com'st to kneel at Henry's feet, Thou mayst bereave him of his wits with wonder.
A Parley sounded. Enter REIGNIER, on the Walls. Suf. See, Reignier, see, thy daughter prisoner. Reig. To whom?
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.
Reig. Speaks Suffolk as he thinks?
Suf.
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.
[Exit from the Walls.
Suf. 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.
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 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.
Suf. That is her ransome, 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 traffick of a king: 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, 5 Play the hypocrite.
SCENE IV. - Camp of the Duke of York in Anjou. Enter YORK, WARWICK, and Cardinal BEAUFort, attended.
Car. Lord regent, I do greet your excellence
With letters of commission from the king.
For know, my lords, the states of Christendom,
Mov'd with remorse 7 of these outrageous broils,
Have earnestly implor'd a general peace
Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French;
And here at hand the dauphin, and his train,
Approacheth, to confer about some matter.
York. Is all our travail turn'd to this effect?
After the slaughter of so many peers,
So many captains, gentlemen, and soldiers,
That in this quarrel have been overthrown,
And sold their bodies for their country's benefit,
Shall we at last conclude effeminate peace?
Have we not lost most part of all the towns,
By treason, falsehood, and by treachery,
Our great progenitors had conquered? -
O, Warwick, Warwick! I foresee with grief
The utter loss of all the realm of France.
War. Be patient, York: if we conclude a peace,
It shall be with such strict and severe covenants,
As little shall the Frenchmen gain thereby.
Enter CHARLES, attended ALENÇON, Bastard, REIGNIER, and others.
Char. Since, lords of England, it is thus agreed, That peaceful truce shall be proclaim'd in France, We come to be informed by yourselves What the conditions of that league must be.
York. Speak, Winchester; for boiling choler chokes The hollow passage of my poison'd voice, By sight of these our baleful enemies.
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