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? Mess. They are returned, my lord; and give it out, That he is marched to Bordeaux 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 Bordeaux. Of horsemen that were levied for this siege! Enter SIR WILLIAM LUCY. Lucy. Thou princely leader of our English strength, To Bordeaux, warlike duke! To Bordeaux, York; By forfeiting a traitor and a coward. Lucy. O, send some succor to the distressed lord! 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. Lucy. Then, God take mercy on brave Talbot's soul! And on his son, young John; whom, two hours since, I met in travel toward his warlike father! This seven years did not Talbot see his son; To bid his young son welcome to his grave! Away! vexation almost stops my breath, That sundered friends greet in the hour of death.- Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won away, But curse the cause I cannot aid the man. 'Long all of Somerset, and his delay. Lucy. Thus, while the vulture of sedition Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders, [Exit. The conquest of our scarce-cold conqueror, That ever-living man of memory, Henry the Fifth.-Whiles they each other cross, [Exit. SCENE IV. Other Plains of Gascony. Enter SOMERSET, with his Forces; an Officer of TALBOT'S with him. Som. It is too late; I cannot send them now: That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the name. Enter SIR WILLIAM LUCY. Som. How now, sir William? whither were you sent? Lucy. Whither, my lord? from bought and sold lord Talbot; Who, ringed about with bold adversity, Cries out for noble York and Somerset, To beat assailing death from his weak legions. And whiles the honorable captain there Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs, You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honor, Let not your private discord keep away Yields up his life unto a world of odds. Orleans the Bastard, Charles, and Burgundy, 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 host, Collected for this expedition. Som. York lies; he might have sent and had the horse. I owe him little duty, and less love; And take foul scorn, to fawn on him by sending. 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; Som. If he be dead, brave Talbot, then adieu! [Exeunt. SCENE V. The English Camp near Bordeaux. Enter TALBOT and JOHN his Son. Tal. O young John Talbot! I did send for thee, That Talbot's name might be in thee revived, Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swiftest horse John. Is my name Talbot? and am I your son? To make a bastard, and a slave of me; Tal. Fly, to revenge my death, if I be slain. Tal. If we both stay, we both are sure to die. Rather than life preserved 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 saved 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 severed 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: John. O, twice my father! twice am I thy son: Tal. When from the dauphin's crest thy sword struck fire, It warmed 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; To hazard all our lives in one small boat. My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame: All these are saved 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, |