No more can I be fever'd from your fide,
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 fon, Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon.

Come, fide by fide together live and die;

And foul with foul from France to heaven fly. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

A Field of Battle.

Alarum :
: Excurfions, wherein Talbot's fon is hemm'd about,
and TALBOT rescues him.

Tal. Saint George and victory! fight, foldiers, 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 ;
I gave thee life, and refcu'd thee from death.

John. O twice my father! twice am I thy son :
The life, thou gav'ft me firft, was loft 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 creft thy sword struck fire,

It warm'd thy father's heart with proud defire

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 refcu'd thee.
The ireful baftard Orleans-that drew blood
From thee, my boy; and had the maidenhood

Of

Tal. Thou antick death, which laugh'ft us here to

fcorn,

Anon, from thy infulting tyranny,

Coupled in bonds of perpetuity,

Two Talbots, winged through the lither sky,
In thy defpite, fhall 'fcape mortality.-

O thou whofe 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, BURGUNDY,

Baftard, LA PUCELLE, and Forces.

Char. Had York and Somerset brought rescue in,

We should have found a bloody day of this.

Baft. How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging-wood, Did flesh his puny fword in Frenchmen's blood !

Puc. Once I encounter'd him, and thus I faid,
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. Doubtlefs, he would have made a noble knight:

See,

See, where he lies inherfed in the arms

Of the most bloody nurser of his harms.

Baft. Hew them to pieces, hack their bones afunder; Whofe 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

Lucy. Herald,

preceding.

Conduct me to the Dauphin's tent;

to know

Who hath obtain'd the glory of the day.

Char. On what fubmiffive message art thou fent?

Lucy. Submiffion, Dauphin? 'tis a mere French word; We English warriors wot not what it means.

I come to know what prifoners thou hast ta'en,

And to furvey the bodies of the dead.

Char. For prifoners afk'ft thou? hell our prifon is. But tell me whom thou feek'st.

Lucy. Where is the great Alcides of the field, Valiant lord Talbot, earl of Shrewsbury?

Created, for his rare fuccefs 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 faint George,
Worthy faint Michael, and the golden fleece;
Great marefhal to Henry the fixth,

Of all his wars within the realm of France ?
Puc. Here is a filly ftately tile, indeed!

The Turk, that two and fifty kingdoms hath,

Writes not fo tedious a ftile as this.

Him, that thou magnify'st with all these titles,
Stinking, and fly-blown, lies here at our feet.

Lucy. Is Talbot flain; the Frenchmen's only fcourge, Your kingdom's terror and black Nemesis?

O, were mine eyeballs into bullets turn'd,
That I, in rage, might fhoot 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 befeems their worth.

Puc. I think, this upstart is old Talbot's ghost,
He speaks with fuch a proud commanding fpirit.
For God's fake, let him have 'em; to keep them here,
They would but stink, and putrefy the air.

Char. Go, take their bodies hence.
Lucy.

But from their afhes fhall be rear'd

I'll bear them hence:

A phoenix that fhall 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 flain.

[Exeunt.

ACT

ACT V. 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 fue 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 effufion of our Chriftian blood,

And stablish quietnefs on every fide.

K. Hen. Ay, marry, uncle; for I always thought, It was both impious and unnatural,

That fuch immanity and bloody ftrife

Should reign among profeffors of one faith.
Glo. Befide, my lord,-the fooner to effect,
And furer 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 fumptuous dowry.

K. Hen. Marriage, uncle? alas! my years are young And fitter is my ftudy 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 finall