Exeunt SCENE III. Plains in Gascony. Enter a Messenger that meets YORK. Enter YORK with trumpet and many Soldiers YORK Are not the speedy scouts return'd again, That dogg'd the mighty army of the Dauphin? Messenger They are return'd, my lord, and give it out That he is march'd to Bourdeaux with his power, To fight with Talbot: as he march'd along, By your espials were discovered Two mightier troops than that the Dauphin led, Which join'd with him and made their march for Bourdeaux. 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 lowted 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, Never so needful on the earth of France, Spur to the rescue of the noble Talbot, Who now is girdled with a waist of iron And hemm'd about with grim destruction:
To Bourdeaux, warlike duke! to Bourdeaux, York!
Else, farewell Talbot, France, and England's honour. YORK O God, that Somerset, who in proud heart Doth stop my cornets, were in Talbot's place!
So should we save a valiant gentleman By forfeiting a traitor and a coward.
Mad ire and wrathful fury makes me weep, That thus we die, while remiss traitors sleep. LUCY O, send some succor to the distress'd 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, who two hours since 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 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.
Exit, with his soldiers 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 in Gascony. Enter SOMERSET, with his army; a Captain of TALBOT's with him SOMERSET 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. Captain Here is Sir William Lucy, who with me Set from our o'ermatch'd forces forth for aid.
Enter Sir William LUCY SOMERSET How now, Sir William! whither were you sent? LUCY Whither, my lord? from bought and sold Lord Talbot;Who, ring'd about 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 lingering, 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 succors that should lend him aid, While he, renowned noble gentleman, Yields up his life unto a world of odds:
Orleans the Bastard, Charles, Burgundy, Alencon, Reignier, compass him about, And Talbot perisheth by your default. SOMERSET 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. SOMERSET 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. 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, betray'd to fortune by your strife. SOMERSET Come, go; I will dispatch 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. SOMERSET If he be dead, brave Talbot, then adieu! LUCY His fame lives in the world, his shame in you.
Exeunt SCENE V. The English camp near Bourdeaux. Enter TALBOT and JOHN his son TALBOT O young John Talbot! I did send for thee To tutor thee in stratagems of war, That Talbot's name might be in thee revived 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 danger:
Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swiftest horse;And I'll direct thee how thou shalt escape By sudden flight: come, dally not, be gone. JOHN TALBOT 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. TALBOT Fly, to revenge my death, if I be slain. JOHN TALBOT He that flies so will ne'er return again. TALBOT If we both stay, we both are sure to die. JOHN TALBOT 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, everyone 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.
