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When I was young, as yet I am not old,
Flourish. Exeunt all but VERNON and BASSET. Ver. Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at sea, Disgracing of these colours that I wear In honour of my noble Lord of York, Dar'st thou maintain the former words thou spak'st?
Bas. Yes, sir; as well as you dare patronage The envious barking of your saucy tongue Against my lord the Duke of Somerset.
Ver. Sirrah, thy lord I honour as he is. Bas. Why, what is he? as good a man as York. Ver. Hark ye; not so: in witness, take ye that. Strikes him. Bas. Villain, thou know'st the law of arms is such That whoso draws a sword, 'tis present death, Or else this blow should broach thy dearest blood. But I'll unto his majesty, and crave I may have liberty to venge this wrong; When thou shalt see I'll meet thee to thy cost. Ver. Well, miscreant, I'll be there as soon as
And, after, meet you sooner than you would.
To tear the garter from thy craven's leg;
Glou. To say the truth, this fact was infamous
Tal. When first this order was ordain'd, my lords,
Knights of the garter were of noble birth,
K. Hen. Stain to thy countrymen! thou hear'st thy doom.
Be packing therefore, thou that wast a knight :
And now, my lord protector, view the letter
Glou. What means his grace, that he hath chang'd his style?
No more but, plain and bluntly, To the King!
And join'd with Charles, the rightful King of France.
K. Hen. What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt?
Glou. It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes.
K. Ien. Why then, Lord Talbot there shall talk with him,
And give him chastisement for this abuse.
I should have begg'd I might have been employ'd. K. Hen. Then gather strength and march unto him straight:
Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason, And what offence it is to flout his friends.
Tal. I go, my lord; in heart desiring still You may behold confusion of your foes.
Enter VERNON and BASSET.
Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign! Bas. And me, my lord; grant me the combat too!
York. This is my servant: hear him, noble prince!
Som. And this is mine: sweet Henry, favour him!
K. Hen. Be patient, lords; and give them leave to speak.
Say, gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim? And wherefore crave you combat? or with whom? Ver. With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong.
Bas. And I with him; for he hath done me wrong.
K. Hen. What is that wrong whereof you both complain?
First let me know, and then I'll answer you.
This fellow here, with envious carping tongue,
Ver. And that is my petition, noble lord: For though he seem with forged quaint conceit To set a gloss upon his bold intent,
Yet know, my lord, I was provok'd by him; And he first took exceptions at this badge, Pronouncing that the paleness of this flower Bewray'd the faintness of my master's heart. York. Will not this malice, Somerset, be left? Som. Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out,
Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it. 110 K. Hen, Good Lord! what madness rules in brain-sick men,
When for so slight and frivolous a cause
York. Let this dissension first be tried by fight, And then your highness shall command a peace. Som. The quarrel toucheth none but us alone; Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then.
York. There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset. Ver. Nay, let it rest where it began at first. Bas. Confirm it so, mine honourable lord.
Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favour,
O! think upon the conquest of my father,
Puts on a red rose. That any one should therefore be suspicious I more incline to Somerset than York: Both are my kinsmen, and I love them both. As well they may upbraid me with my crown, Because, forsooth, the king of Scots is crown'd. But your discretions better can persuade Than I am able to instruct or teach: And therefore, as we hither came in peace. So let us still continue peace and love. Cousin of York, we institute your grace To be our regent in these parts of France: And, good my Lord of Somerset, unite Your troops of horsemen with his bands of foot ; And, like true subjects, sons of your progenitors, Go cheerfully together and digest Your angry choler on your enemies. Ourself, my lord protector, and the rest, After some respite will return to Calais ; From thence to England, where I hope ere long To be presented, by your victories, With Charles, Alençon, and that traitorous rout. Flourish. Exeunt all but YORK, WARWICK, EXETER, and VERNON, War. My Lord of York, I promise you, the king Prettily, methought, did play the orator. York. And so he did; but yet I like it not In that he wears the badge of Somerset. War. Tush! that was but his fancy, blame him not;
I dare presume, sweet prince, he thought no harm. York. An if I wist he did,-but let it rest; 18) Other affairs must now be managed.
Exeunt YORK, WARWICK, and VERNON, Exe. Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice;
Tal. Go to the gates of Bourdeaux, trumpeter; Summon their general unto the wall. Trumpet sounds a parley. Enter, on the walls, the
General of the French Forces, and Others. English John Talbot, captains, calls you forth, Servant in arms to Harry King of England; And thus he would: Open your city gates, Be humble to us, call my sovereign yours, And do him homage as obedient subjects, And I'll withdraw me and my bloody power; But if you frown upon this proffer'd peace, You tempt the fury of my three attendants, Lean famine, quartering steel, and climbing fire; Who in a moment even with the earth Shall lay your stately and air-braving towers, If you forsake the offer of their love.
Gen. Thou ominous and fearful owl of death, Our nation's terror and their bloody scourge! The period of thy tyranny approacheth. On us thou canst not enter but by death; For, I protest, we are well fortified,
And strong enough to issue out and fight:
That he is march'd to Bourdeaux with his power,
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,
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;
York. He dies, we lose; I break my war-like 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
York. Alas! what joy shall noble Talbot have To bid his young son welcome to his grave? 40 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, For fly he could not if he would have fled;
Henry the Fifth: whiles they each other cross, Lives, honours, lands, and all hurry to loss. Exit.
SCENE IV.--Other Plains in Gascony.
SCENE V.-The English Camp near Bourdeaux. Enter TALBOT and JOHN his Son.
Tal. O young John Talbot! I did send for thee To tutor thee in stratagems of war,
That Talbot's name might be in thee reviv'd
Enter SOMERSET, with his Army; a Captain of Should bring thy father to his drooping chair.
TALBOT'S with him.
Som. 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
Cap. Here is Sir William Lucy, who with me Set from our o'ermatch'd forces forth for aid. 11
Enter Sir WILLIAM LUCY.
Som. 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,
Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.
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
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.
Hath now entrapp'd the noble-minded Talbot,
Within six hours they will be at his aid.
Lucy. Too late comes rescue: he is ta'en or slain,
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,
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 sav'd in thee. John. No part of him but will be shame in me. Tal. Thou never hadst renown, nor canst not lose it.
Come, side by side together live and die,
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,
I gave thee life and rescu'd thee from death.
It warm'd thy father's heart with proud desire
Thou Icarus. Thy life to me is sweet:
SCENE VII.-Another Part of the Field. Alarums. 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
Triumphant death, smear'd with captivity,
Enter Soldiers, bearing the body of JOHN TALBOT. Serv. O my dear lord, lo! where your son is borne.
Tal. Thou antick death, which laugh'st us here to scorn,
Anon, from thy insulting tyranny,
Speak to thy father ere thou yield thy breath; Brave death by speaking whether he will or no; 30 Imagine him a Frenchman and thy foe. Poor boy! he smiles, methinks, as who should say,
Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy,
All these and more we hazard by thy stay;
These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart.
On that advantage, bought with such a shame,
Tal. Then follow thou thy desperate sire of Crete,
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, the Bastard of ORLEANS, JOAN LA PUCELLE, and Forces.
Cha. 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.