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 : 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, where in TALBOT's Son is hemm'd about, and TALBOT rescues him. Tal. Saint George and victory! fight, soldiers, fight: Where is John Talbot ?-pause, and take thy breath; Tal. When from the Dauphin's crest thy sword struck fire, It warm'd thy father's heart with proud desire Mean and right poor; for that pure blood of mine, Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father's care; Fly, to revenge my death, when I am dead; To hazard all our lives in one small boat. My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame : All these are sav'd, if thou wilt fly away. John. The sword of Orleans hath not made me smart, The coward horse, that bears me, fall and die! 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 same. Alarum: Excursions. Enter TALBOT wounded, supported by a Servant. Tal. Where is my other life?-mine own is gone ;O, where's young Talbot? where is valiant John ?Triumphant death, smear'd with captivity !6 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, and assail'd of none, [5] To like one to the peasants, is, to compare, to level by comparison. [6] That is, death stained acd dishonoured with captivity. [7] Watching me with tenderness in my fall, JOHNS. JOHNS. Dizzy-ey'd fury, and great rage of heart, 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 here to scorn, Anon, from thy insulting tyranny, Coupled in bonds of perpetuity, Two Talbots, winged through the lither sky," O thou, whose wounds become hard-favour'd death, Poor boy! he smiles, methinks; as who should say— Now my old arms are young John Talbot's grave. [Dies. 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, ragingwood, Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood! [8] The fool, or antic of the play, made sport by mocking the graver personages. JOHNS. [9] Lither is flexible or yielding. In much the same sense Milton says: "He with broad sails "Winnow'd the buxom air." STEEV. That is, the obsequious air. JOHNS-In the old service of matrimony, the wife was enjoined to be buxom both at bed and board. Buxom, therefore, anciently signified obedient or yielding. [1] That is, raging mad. STEEV. [2] Giglot is a wanton, or strumpet. JOHNS. So, rushing in the bowels of the French, Bur. Doubtless, he would have made a noble knight: See, where he lies inhersed 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 wonder. Char. O, no; forbear: for that which we have fled During the life, let us not wrong it dead. Enter Sir WILLIAM LUCY, attended: a French Herald 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? 'tis a meer French word; 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 Urchingfield, Lord Strange of Blackmere, lord Verdun of Alton, Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, lord Furnival of Sheffield, Of all his wars within the realm of France ? Him, that thou magnify'st with all these titles, 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! It were enough to fright the realm of France: 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 'em to keep them here, They would but stink, and putrify the air. Char. Go, take their bodies hence. Lucy. I bear Them hence: but from their ashes shall be rear'd A phoenix, that shall make all France afeard. Cha. 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. ACT V. [Exeunt. SCENE I.—London. A Room in the Palace. Enter King HENRY, GLOSTER, and EXETER. K. Hen. Have you perus'd the letters from the pope, 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, That such immanity 3 and bloody strife Glo. Beside, my lord,-the sooner to effect, And surer bind, this knot of amity, The earl of Armagmac-near knit to Charles, 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, (3) Immanity—that is, barbarity, savageness. STEEV. |