And from the pride of Gallia rescu'd thee.
The ireful bastard Orleans-that drew blood
From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood
Of thy first fight-I soon encountered,
And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed
Some of his bastard blood; and, in disgrace,
Bespoke him thus,-"Contaminated, base,
And misbegotten blood I spill of thine,

Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine

Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave boy: "-
Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy,
Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father's care,-
Art thou not weary, John? how dost thou fare?
Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly,
Now thou art seal'd the son of chivalry?
Fly, to revenge my death when I am dead:
The help of one stands me in little stead.
O, too much folly is it, well I wot,
To hazard all our lives in one small boat!
If I to-day die not with Frenchmen's rage,
To-morrow I shall die with mickle age:
By me they nothing gain, an if I stay,—
'Tis but the shortening of my life one day:
In thee thy mother dies, our household'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.

+

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, An if I fly, I am not Talbot's son: Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot; If son to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot.

Tal. Then follow thou thy desperate 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.

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 John ?-
Triumphant death, smear'd with captivity, (121)
Young Talbot's valour makes me smile at thee :-
When he perceiv'd me shrink and on (122) my knee,
His bloody sword he brandish'd over me,
And, like a hungry lion, did commence
Rough deeds of rage and stern impatience;
But when my angry guardant stood alone,
Tendering my ruin, and assail'd of none,
Dizzy-ey'd fury and great rage of heart
Suddenly made him from my side to start
Into the clustering battle of the French;
And in that sea of blood my boy did drench
His over-mounting spirit; and there died
My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride.

Serv. O my dear lord, lo, where your son is borne !

Enter Soldiers, bearing the body of JOHN TALBOT.

Tal. Thou antic death, which laugh'st us here to scorn, Anon, from thy insulting tyranny, Coupled in bonds of perpetuity,

(121) Triumphant death, smear'd with captivity,] Walker (Crit. Exam., &c., vol. iii. p. 153) asks, “Can any good sense be made out of" this line?-Johnson explains it, "Death stained and dishonoured with captivity."

(122) shrink and on] Mr. W. N. Lettsom conjectures "sink upon" or 66 sinking on."

Two Talbots, wingèd through the lither sky,(123)
In thy despite, shall scape 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 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, the Bastard of Orleans, LA PUCELLE, and Forces.

Char. 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-wood, Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood!

Puc. Once I encounter'd him, and thus I said, "Thou maiden youth, be vanquish'd by a maid:" But, with a proud majestical high scorn,

29

He answer'd thus, "Young Talbot was not born
To be the pillage of a giglet wench:
So, rushing in the bowels of the French,
He left me proudly, as unworthy fight.

Bur. Doubtless he would have made a noble knight:-
See, where he lies inhearsèd in the arms

Of the most bloody nurser of his harms.

Bast. Hew them to pieces, hack their bones asunder, Whose 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.

(123) the lither sky,] "The hither sky,' I think; through this lower sky to heaven." Walker's Crit. Exam., &c., vol. ii. p. 242.—But “lither " is surely the right reading: see Glossary.

Enter Sir WILLIAM LUCY, attended; a French Herald proceding.

Lucy. Herald,(124)

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

I come to know what prisoners thou hast ta'en,
And to survey the bodies of the dead.

Char. For prisoners ask'st thou ? hell our prison is.
But tell me whom thou seek'st.

Lucy. Where is the great Alcides of the field,(125) Valiant Lord Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury,

Created, for his rare success 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 Saint George,

Worthy Saint Michael, and the Golden Fleece;
Great Marshal to Henry the Sixth (126)

(124) Lucy. Herald, &c.] "Lucy's message implied that he knew who had obtained the victory: therefore Sir T. Hanmer reads

'Herald, conduct me to the Dauphin's tent,
Who hath,' &c."

JOHNSON.

(125)

So Rowe. The folio has "But where's the great Alcides," &c.; and Malone observes that "the compositor probably caught the word but from the preceding line."—Mr. W. N. Lettsom thinks that the author probably wrote "First, where's," &c. Note on Walker's Crit. Exam., &c., vol. iii. p. 151.-Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector fills up the first line (which is certainly mutilated) thus, "But tell me briefly whom thou seekest now," and prosaically enough.

(126) Great Marshal to Henry the Sixth] Here "Marshal" has been altered to "mareshal," for the sake of the metre; which, however, remains imperfect, to the eye at least, even with that alteration. Both "Marshal" and "Henry" are to be read (not written) as trisyllables. (The editor of the second folio printed

"Great Marshall to our King Henry the sixt," &c.)

But tell me whom thou seek'st.

Lucy. Where is the great Alcides of the field,]

Of all his wars within the realm of France ?
Puc. Here is a silly-stately style indeed!!
The Turk, that two-and-fifty kingdoms hath,
Writes not so tedious a style as this.—
Him that thou magnifiest with all these titles,
Stinking and fly-blown, lies here at our feet.

Lucy. Is Talbot slain,-the Frenchmen's only scourge,
Your kingdom's terror and black Nemesis ?
O, were mine eyeballs into bullets turn'd,
That I, in rage, might shoot 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 amongst 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 beseems their worth.

Puc. I think this upstart is old Talbot's ghost,
He speaks with such a proud-commanding spirit.
For God's sake, let him have 'em ;(127) to keep them here,
They would but stink, and putrefy the air.

Char. Go, take their bodies hence.
Lucy.

I'll bear them hence:
But doubt not from their ashes shall be rear'd (128)
A phoenix that shall make all France afeard.

Char. So we be rid of them, do what (129) thou wilt.—
And now to Paris, in this conquering vein:
All will be ours, now bloody Talbot's slain.

[Exeunt.

(127) 'em ;] The folio has "him."

(128) But doubt not from their ashes shall be rear'd] The folio has merely "but from their ashes shal be reard."-Pope printed "But from their ashes, Dauphin, shall be rear'd," &c.-Mr. Collier's Ms. Corrector reads ". their very ashes shall," &c.-I give, as preferable, the emendation of Mr. W. N. Lettsom.

(129) do what] The folio has "do with him what.”