Henry VI, Part I - William Shakespeare (ink ebook reader .txt) 📗

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 succours that should lend him aid,
While he, renowned noble gentleman,
Yields up his life unto a world of odds:
Orleans the Bastard, Charles, Burgundy,
Alençon, 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

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 He that flies so will ne’er return again. Talbot If we both stay, we both are sure 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 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.
Here on my knee I beg mortality,
Rather than life preserved with infamy.

Talbot Shall all thy mother’s hopes lie in one tomb? John Ay, rather than I’ll shame my mother’s womb. Talbot Upon my blessing, I command thee go. John To fight I will, but not to fly the foe. Talbot Part of thy father may be saved in thee. John No part of him but will be shame in me. Talbot Thou never hadst renown, nor canst not lose it. John Yes, your renowned name: shall flight abuse it? Talbot Thy father’s charge shall clear thee from that stain. John

You cannot witness for me, being slain.
If death be so apparent, then both fly.

Talbot

And leave my followers here to fight and die?
My age was never tainted with such shame.

John

And shall my youth be guilty of such blame?
No more can I be sever’d from your side,
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.

Talbot

Then here I take my leave of thee, fair son,
Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon.
Come, side by side together live and die;
And soul with soul from France to heaven fly. Exeunt.

Scene VI

A field of battle.

Alarum: excursions, wherein Talbot’s Son is hemmed about, and Talbot rescues him. Talbot

Saint George and victory! fight, soldiers, 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 rescued thee from death.

John

O, twice my father, twice am I thy son!
The life thou gavest me first was lost and done,
Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate,
To my determined time thou gavest new date.

Talbot

When from the Dauphin’s crest thy sword struck fire,
It warm’d thy father’s heart with proud desire
Of bold-faced victory. Then leaden age,
Quicken’d with youthful spleen and war-like rage,
Beat down Alençon, Orleans, Burgundy,
And from the pride of Gallia rescued 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