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 Alencon, 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, basc,
And mis-begotten 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,

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 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 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! 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, 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 over-mounting spirit; and there died
My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride.

Enter Soldiers, bearing the body of John Talbot.
Ser. 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-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 bave,
Now my old arms are young John Talbot's grave.

[Dies.

Alarums. Exeunt Soldiers and Servant, leaving the two bodies. Enter Charles, Alencon, Burgundy, 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,
wood,

Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood!
Puc. Once I encounter'd him, and thus 1 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 a noble knight:
See, where he lies inhersed in the arms
Of the most bloody nurser of his harms.

Bast. Hew them to pieces, haek 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 mere 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 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 mareshall 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 maguify'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 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.
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'll bear

Them bence: 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 thou wilt.

-And now to Paris, in this conquering vein ;

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

m

ACT V.

SCENE 1.-London. A Room in the Palace. Enter King Henry, Gloster and Exeter.

King Henry.

HAVE you perus'd the letters from the pope, The emperor, and the earl of Armagnac ?

Gio. 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 and bloody strife
Should reign among professors of one faith.

Glo. Beside, my lord,-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 Winches-
ter, 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 come 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 Ambassadors.] 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 King Henry and Train; Gloster, Ex. eter, 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, Alencon, La Pucelle, and Forc es, marching.

Char. These news, my lords, may cheer our droop ing spirits:

'Tis said, the stout Parisians do revolt, And turn again unto the warlike French,

Alen. Then march to Paris, royal Charles of France, And keep not back your powers in dalliance. Puc. Peace be amongst them, if they turn to us; Else, ruin combat with their palaces!

Enter a Messenger.

Mes. Success unto our valiant general,

And happiness to his accomplices!

Char. What tidings send our scouts? I pr'ythec, speak.

Mes. The English army, that divided was

Into two parts, is now conjoin'd in one;

And means to give you battle presently.

Char. Somewhat too sudden, sirs, the warning 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 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 fortunate!
[Exeunt.

SCENE III-The same. Before Angiers. Alar
ums: Excursions. Enter La Pucelle.
Puc. The regent conquers, and the Frenchmen fly,
Now help, ye charming spells, and periapts;
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, Appear, and aid me in this enterprize!

Enter Fiends.,

This speedy 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 about, 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. [Exit.
Alarums. Enter French and English fighting. La
Pucelle and York fight hand to hand. La Pucelle
is taken. The French fly.

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 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 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.

Fuc. I pr'ythee, give me leave to curse awhile. York. Curse, miscreant, when thou comest to the stake. [Exeunt.

Alarums. Enter Suffolk, leading in Lady Margaret. 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,
And lay them gently on thy tender side.

I kiss these fingers [Kissing her hand.] for eternal peace:

Who art thou? say, that I may honour thee.

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 prisoners underneath her wings.

Go, and be free again as Suffolk's friend.
[She turns away as going.

O, stay!-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 :
I'll call for pen and ink, and write my mind:
Fie, De la Poole ! disable not thyself;
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,
Confounds the tongue, and makes the senses rough.
Mar. Say, earl of Suffolk,-if thy name be so,-
What ransome must I pay before I pass?
For, I perceive, I am thy prisoner.

Suf. How canst thou tell, she will deny thy suit,
Before thou make a trial of her love?
[Aside.
Mar. Why speak'st thou not? what ransome must
I pay?

Suf. She's beautiful; and therefore to be woo'd: She is a woman; therefore to be won.

[Aside.

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 whom? Why, for my king: Tush! that's a wooden thing. Mar. He talks of wood; it is some carpenter. Suf. Yet so my fancy may he 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.

[Aside

To compass wonders, but by help of devils.
No, misconceived! Joan of Arc hath been
A virgin from her tender infancy,
Chaste and immaculate in very thought;
Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effus'd,
Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.
York. Ay, ay;-away with her to execution.
War. And hark ye, sirs; because she is a maid,
Spare for no faggots, let there be enough:
Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake,
That so her torture may be shortened.

Puc. Will nothing turn your unrelenting hearts ?--| Then, Joan, discover thine infirmity;

That warranteth by law to be thy privilege.

I am with child, ye bloody homicides:
Murder not then the fruit within my womb,
Although ye hale me to a violent death.

York. Now heaven forefend! the holy maid with child?

War. The greatest miracle that e'er ye wrought: Is all your strict preciseness come to this?

York. She and the dauphin have been juggling:

I did imagine what would be her refuge.

War. Well, go to; we will have no bastards live; Especially, since Charles must father it.

Puc. You are deceiv'd; my child is none of his ; It was Alencon, that enjoy'd my love.

York. Alencon! that notorious Machiavel!

It dies, an if it had a thousand lives.

Puc. O, give me leave, I have deluded you; 'Twas neither Charles, nor yet the duke I nam'd, But Reignier, king of Naples, that prevail'd.

War. A married man! that's most intolerable. York. Why, here's a girl! I think, she knows not well,

There were so many, whom she may accuse.

War. It's sign, she hath been liberal and free. York. And, yet, forsooth, she is a virgin pure.Strumpet, thy words condemn thy brat, and thee: Use no entreaty, for it is in vain.

Puc. Then lead me hence;-with whom I leave my

curse:

May never glorious sun reflex his beams
Upon the country where you make abode !
But darkness and the gloomy shade of death
Environ you; till mischief, and despair,
Drive you to break your necks, or hang yourselves!
[Exit, guarded.
York. Break thou in pieces, and consume to ashes,
Thou foul accursed minister of hell!

Enter 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 at these outrageous broils,
Have earnestly implor'd a general peace
Betwixt our nation and the aspiring French;
And here at band 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; Alencon, 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.

Win. Charles, and the rest, it is enacted thus:
That-in regard king Henry gives consent,
Of mere compassion, and of lenity,
To ease your country of distressful war,
And suffer you to breathe in fruitful peace,-
You shall become true liegemen to his crown:
And, Charles, upon condition thou wilt swear
To pay him tribute, and submit thyself,
Thou shalt be plac'd as viceroy under him,
And still enjoy thy regal dignity.

Alen. Must he be then as shadow of himself?
Adorn his temples with a coronet;

And yet, in substance and authority,
Retain but privilege of a private man?
This proffer is absurd and reasonless.

Char. "Tis known already, that I am possess
With more than half the Gallian territories,
And therein reverenc'd for their lawful king!
Shall I, for lucre of the rest unvanquish'd,
Detract so much from that prerogative,
As to be call'd but viceroy of the whole?
No, lord ambassador; I'll rather keep
That which I have, than, coveting for more,
Be cast from possibility of all.

York. Insulting Charles! hast thou by secret means
Us'd intercession to obtain a league ;
And, now the matter grows to compromise,
Stand'st thou aloof upon comparison?
Either accept the title thou usurp'st,
Of benefit proceeding from our king,
And not of any challenge of desert,
Or we will plague thee with incessant wars.
Reig. My lord, you do not well in obstinacy
To cavil in the course of this contract:
If once it be neglected, ten to one,
We shall not find like opportunity.

Alen. To say the truth, it is your policy, To save your subjects from such massacre, And ruthless slaughters, as are daily seen By our proceeding in hostility: And therefore take this compact of a truce, Although you break it when your pleasure serve. [Aside to Charles.

War. How say'st thou, Charles? shall our condition stand?

Char. It shall:

Only reserv'd, you claim no interest

In any of our towns of garrison?

York. Then swear allegiance to his majesty; As thou art knight, never to disobey, Nor be rebellious to the crown of England, Thou, nor thy nobles, to the crown of England.[Charles and the rest give tokens of fealty. So, now dismiss your army when you please; Hang up your ensigns, let your drums be still, For here we entertain a solemn peace. [Exeunt.