Sivut kuvina
PDF
ePub

Tal. If we both stay, we both are fure to die.

John. Then let me stay, and, father, do you fly:
Your loss is great, so your regard should be ;
My worth unknown, no lofs is known in me.
Upon my death the French can little boast;
In yours they will, in you all hopes are loft.
Flight cannot stain the honour you have won ::
But mine it will, that no exploit have done.
You Aed for vantage, ev'ry one 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.
Here, on my knee, * I beg mortality,
Rather than life preserv'd with infamy.

Tal. Shall all thy mother's hopes lye 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, 1
Tal. Part of thy father may be fav'd in thce,
John. No part of him, but will be shame in me.
Tal. Thou

never hadît renown, nor canft not lose it. John. Yes, your renowned name ; shall fight abuse it? Tal.Thy father's charge shall clear thee from that stan.

John. You cannot witness for me, being sain, 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. :

Hobr. And shall my youth be guilty of such blame? No more can I be lever'd from your side, Than can your self your self 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 side, together live and die ; And soul with foul from France to heaven fly. [Exeunt. I beg mortality,] Mortality, for death.

Alarm :

Alarm : excursions, wherein Talbot's son is bemmid

about, and Talbot rescues bim. Tal. St. Gearge, and victory! fight, soldiers, fight: The Regent hath with Talbot broke his word, And left us to the rage of France's sword. Where is John. Talbot? pause, and take thy breath; y I gave thee life, and rescu'd thee from death.

John. O, twice my father! twice am I thy fon : The life, thou gav'ft me first, was lost and done ; Till with thy warlike sword, despight of fate, To my determin'd time thou gav'it new date. Tal. When from the Dauphin's creft thy (ward

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 Alanson, 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 maidenhoad Of thy first Fight, I foon encountered ; And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed Some of his bastard blood; and in disgrace Bespoke him thus: Contaminated, bale, And mis-begotten blood I spill of thine, Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine, Which thou didâ force from Talbot, my brave boy Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy, Came in ftrong rescue. Speak, thy father's care, Art not thou weary, Fobn? how dost thou fare? Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and Ay, Now thou art feal'd the son of Chivalry? Fly, to revenge my death, when I am dead; The help of one stands me in little stead. Oh, too much folly is it, well I wot, 1.A To hazard all our lives in one small boat,

[ocr errors]

If I to day die not with Frenchmens' rage,
To morrow I shall die with mickle age.
By me they nothing gain ; and, if I stay,
's is but the shortning of my life one day.
In thee thy mother dies, our houshold'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.

Jobn. The sword of Orleans hath not made me smart,
These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart.
(a) Out on that vantage bought with such a shame,
To save a paltry life, and Nay 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 shanie's scorn, and subject of mischance.
Surely, by all the glory you have won,
An if I fly, I am not Talbot's fon!
Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot ;
If fon to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot.

Tal. Then follow thou thy desp'rate 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.

[blocks in formation]

Alarm. Excurfions. Enter old Talbot, led. Tal. Where is my other life? mine own is gone. Op where's young Talbot? where is valiant Jobn? Triumphant Death, smear'd with captivity! Young Talbot's valour makes me fmile at thee. When he perceiv'd me shrink, and on my knee, His bloody sword he brandish'd over me ;

(fa) out on ibat vontage. Mr. Theobald. advantage )

- Volg. on that

And,

And, like a hungry Lion, did commence
Rough deeds of rage, and stern impatience :
But when my angry Guardant stood alone,
Tendring my ruin, and affail'd of none,
Dizzy-ey'd fury and great rage of heart
Suddenly made him from my side to start,
Into the cluftring battle of the French:
And, in that sea of blood, my boy did drench
His over-mounting spirit ; and there dy'd
My Icarus ! my bloffom in his pride!

Enter John Talbot, borne.
Serv. O my dear lord ! lo! where your fon is borne.
Tal. Thou antick death, which laugh'ft us here to

scorn, Anon, from thy insulting tyranny, Coupled in bonds of perpetuity, Two Talbots winged through the lither sky, In thy despight, shall 'frape 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 fhould 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, old arms are young John Talbot's Grave.

[Dies.

Now my

ACT

A C T V. S Ć EN EL.

Continues near Bourdeaux.
Enter Charles, Alanson, Burgimdy, Baftard and

Pucelle.

H

CHARLES.
AD York and Somerset brought rescue in,

We should have found a bloody day of this.
Baft. How the young whelp of Talbot's raging brood
Did Helh his puny sword in Frenchmens' blood!

Pucel. Once I encounter'd him, and thus I said:
« Thou maiden youth, be vanquished 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. Douhtless, he would have made a noble Knight:
See, where he lies inhersed in the arm's
Of the most bloody nurfer of his harms.

Baft. Hew them to pieces, hack their banes afunder;
Whose life was England's glory, Gallia's wonder.

Char. Oh, no: forbear : for that which we have fled
During the life, let us not wrong it dead.

Enter Sir William Lucy.
Lucy. 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 fent?

Lucy. Submission, Dauphin? 'tis a meer French word,
We English

) warriors -wot not, what it means.
I come to know what prisoners thou haft ta'en,
And to survey the bodies of the dead,
Imagiglot warch] A drab, ftrumpet. Mr. Pope.

Cha.

« EdellinenJatka »