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To do my duty to my sovereign :

Enter Sir John FASTOLFE.
In sign whereof, this arm, that hath reclaim'd
To your obedience fifty fortresses,

Past. My gracious sovereign, as I rode from
Twelve cities, and seven walled towns of strength, Calais,
Beside five hundred prisoners of esteem,

To haste unto your coronation,
Lets fall his sword before your highness' feet ; A letter was deliver'd to my hands,

Kncels. Writ to your grace from the Duke of Burgundy. And with submissive loyalty of heart

Tal. Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee! Ascribes the glory of his conquest got

I vow'd, base knight, when I did meet thec First to my God, and next unto your grace.

next, K. IIen. Is this the Lord Talbot, uncle Glou- To tear the garter from thy craven's leg ; cester,

Plucks it of. That hath so long been resident in France ? Which I have done, because unworthily

Glou. Yes, if it please your majesty, my liege. Thou wast installed in that high degree. K. Ilen. Welcome, brave captain and victorious Pardon me, princely Henry, and the rest : lord !

This dastard, at the battle of Patay, When I was young, as yet I am not old,

When but in all I was six thousand strong, I do remember how my father said

And that the French were almost ten to one, A stouter champion never bandled sword. Before we met or that a stroke was given, Long since we were resolved of your truth, 20 Like to a trusty squire did run away: Your faithful service and your toil in war ;

In which assault we lost twelve hundred men; Yet never have you tasted our reward,

Myself and divers gentlemen beside Or been reguerdon'd with so much as thanks, Were there surpris'd and taken prisoners. Because till now we never saw your face: Then judge, great lords, if I have done amiss ; Therefore, stand up; and for these good deserts, Or whether that such cowards ought to wear We here create you Earl of Shrewsbury ; This ornament of knighthood, yea or no. And in our coronation take your place.

Glou. To say the truth, this fact was infamous Plourish. Exeunt all but VERNON And ill beseeming any common man,

and BASSET. Much more a knight, a captain and a leader. Ver. Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at sea,

Tal. When first this order was ordain'd, my Disgracing of these colours that I wear

lords, In honour of my noble Lord of York, 30 Knights of the garter were of noble birth, Dar’st thou maintain the former words thou Valiant and virtuous, full of haughty courage, spak'st ?

Such as were grown to credit by the wars; Bas. Yes, sir; as well as you dare patronage Not fearing death, nor shrinking for distress, The envious barking of your saucy tongue But always resolute in most extremes. Against my lord the Duke of Somerset.

He then that is not furnish'd in this sort l'er. Sirrah, thy lord I honour as he is. Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight, Bas. Why, what is he? as good a man as York. Profaning this most honourable order, Ver. Hark ye; not so : in witness, take ye that. And should, if I were worthy to be judge,

Strikes him. Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain Bas. Villain, thou know'st the law of arms is such | That doth presume to boast of gentle blood. That whoso draws a sword, 'tis present death, K. IIen. Stain to thy countrymen! thou hear'st Or else this blow should broach thy clearest blood. thy doom. But I 'll unto his majesty, and crave

Be packing therefore, thou that wast a knight : I may have liberty to venge this wrong ; Henceforth we banish thee on pain of death. When thon shalt see I'll meet thee to thy cost.

Exit FASTOLFE. Ver. Well, miscreant, I'll be there as soon as And now, my lord protector, view the letter you;

Sent from our uncle Duke of Burgundy. And, after, meet you sooner than you would. Glou. What means his grace, that he hath

Ercunt. chang'd his style?

No more but, plain and bluntly, to the King! ACT IV.

Hath he forgot he is his sovereign?

Or doth this churlish superscription
SCENE I.- Paris. A IIau of State. Pretend some alteration in good will ?

What's here? I have, upon especial cause,
Enter King HENRY, GLOUCESTER, EXETER, Mov'd with compassion of my country's wreck,
YORK, SUFFOLK, SOMERSET, WINCHESTER, Together with the pitiful complaints
WARWICK, TALBOT, the Governor of Paris, of such as your oppression feeds upon,
and Others.

Forsaken your pernicious faction Glou. Lord bishop, set the crown upon his And join'd with Charles, the rightful King of France. head.

O monstrous treachery! Can this be so, Il'in. God save King Henry, of that name the That in alliance, amity, and oaths, sixth!

There should be found such false dissembling Glou. Now, governor of Paris, take your oath, guile ? That you elect no other king but him,

K. Flen. What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt? Esteem none friends but such as are his friends, Glou. He doth, my lord, and is become your foe. And none your foes but such as shall pretend

K. Hen. Is that the worst this letter doth conMalicious practices against his state:

tain ? This shall ye do, so help you righteous God! Glou. It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes.





K. Ilen. Why then, Lord Talbot there shall
talk with him,

And give him chastisement for this abuse.
How say you, my lord? are you not content? 70
Tal. Content, my liege! Yes: but that I am

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.



Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign! Bas. And me, my lord; grant me the combat



York. This is my servant: hear him, noble
Som. And this is mine: sweet Henry, favour

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


First let me know, and then I'll answer you.
Bas. Crossing the sea from England into

This fellow here, with envious carping tongue,
Upbraided me about the rose I wear;
Saying, the sanguine colour of the leaves
Did represent my master's blushing cheeks,
When stubbornly he did repugn the truth
About a certain question in the law
Argu'd betwixt the Duke of York and him;
With other vile and ignominious terms:
In confutation of which rude reproach,
And in defence of my lord's worthiness,
I crave the benefit of law of arms.


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
Such factious emulations shall arise!
Good cousins both, of York and Somerset,
Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace.

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.


Confounded be your

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.

Glou. Confirm it so!
And perish ye, with your audacious prate!
Presumptuous vassals! are you not asham'd
With this immodest clamorous outrage
To trouble and disturb the king and us?
And you, my lords, methinks you do not well
To bear with their perverse objections;
Much less to take occasion from their mouths
To raise a mutiny betwixt yourselves:
Let me persuade you take a better course.
Exe. It grieves his highness: good my lords,
be friends.


O! think upon the conquest of my father,

K. Hen. What is that wrong whereof you both My tender years, and let us not forgo
That for a trifle that was bought with blood. 1
Let me be umpire in this doubtful strife.
I see no reason, if I wear this rose,

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, 1
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 enemics.
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,
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

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K. Hen. Come hither, you that would be combatants.

Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favour,
Quite to forget this quarrel and the cause.
And you, my lords, remember where we are;
In France, amongst a fickle wavering nation.
If they perceive dissension in our looks,
And that within ourselves we disagree,
How will their grudging stomachs be provok'd
To wilful disobedience, and rebel!
Beside, what infamy will there arise,
When foreign princes shall be certified
That for a toy, a thing of no regard,
King Henry's peers and chief nobility
Destroy'd themselves, and lost the realm of


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.

Excunt YORK, WARWICK, and VERNON. Exe. Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice;

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For had the passions of thy heart burst out,
I fear we should have seen decipher'd there
More rancorous spite, more furious raging broils,
Than yet can be imagin'd or suppos'd.
But howsoe'er, no simple man that sees
This jarring discord of nobility,
This shouldering of each other in the court,
This factious bandying of their favourites,
But that it doth presage some ill event.
'Tis much when sceptres are in children's hands;
But more when envy breeds unkind division:
There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.

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Enter TALBOT, with his Forces.

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 :
If thou retire, the Dauphin, well appointed,
Stands with the snares of war to tangle thee:
On either hand thee there are squadrons pitch'd
To wall thee from the liberty of flight;
And no way canst thou turn thee for redress
But death doth front thee with apparent spoil,
And pale destruction meets thee in the face.
Ten thousand French have ta'en the sacrament
To rive their dangerous artillery



Upon no Christian soul but English Talbot.
Lo! there thou stand'st, a breathing valiant man,
Of an invincible unconquer'd spirit:
This is the latest glory of thy praise,
That I, thy enemy, due thee withal;
For ere the glass, that now begins to run,
Finish the process of his sandy hour,
These eyes, that see thee now well coloured,
Shall see thee wither'd, bloody, pale, and dead.
Drum afar off.
Hark! hark! the Dauphin's drum, a warning bell,
Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul,
And mine shall ring thy dire departure out.
Exeunt General, etc., from the walls.
Tal. He fables not; I hear the enemy.
Out, some light horsemen, and peruse their wings.
O negligent and heedless discipline;
How are we park'd and bounded in a pale,
A little herd of England's timorous deer,
Maz'd with a yelping kennel of French curs!
If we be English deer, be then in blood;



Not rascal-like, to fall down with a pinch,
But rather moody-mad and desperate stags,
Turn on the bloody hounds with heads of steel
And make the cowards stand aloof at bay:
Sell every man his life as dear as mine,
And they shall find dear deer of us, my friends.
God and Saint George, Talbot and England's

Prosper our colours in this dangerous fight!

SCENE III.-Plains in Gascony.

Enter YORK, with Forces; to him, a Messenger. York. Are not the speedy scouts return'd again That dogg'd the mighty army of the Dauphin? Mess. They are return'd, my lord, and give it


That he is march'd to Bourdeaux with his power,
As he march'd along,
To fight with Talbot.
By your espials were discovered

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.


Lucy. Thou princely leader of our English strength,

Never so needful on the earth of France,
Spur to the rescue of the noble Talbot,
Who now is girdled with a waist of iron
And hemm'd about with grim destruction.
To Bourdeaux, war-like duke! to Bourdeaux,



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;
So should we save a valiant gentleman
By forfeiting a traitor and a coward.

Mad ire and wrathful fury make me weep
That thus we die, while remiss traitors sleep.
Lucy. O! send some succour to the distress'd

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
I met in travel toward his war-like father.
This seven years did not Talbot see his son;
And now they meet where both their lives are



York. Alas! what joy shall noble Talbot have To bid his young son welcome to his grave? 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.

in you.


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Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won away, For fly he could not if he would have fled; Long all of Somerset and his delay.

And fly would Talbot never, though he miglit. Exit, with his soldier3. Som. If he be dead, brave Talbot, then adien! Lucy. Thus, while the vulture of sedition Lucy. His fame lives in the world, his shame Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders,

Exeunt. Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss The conquest of our scarce cold conqueror, SCENE V.- The English Camp near Bourdeaux. That ever living man of memory,

Enter TALBOT and John his Son. Henry the Fifth: whiles they each other cross, Lives, honours, lands, and all hurry to loss. Ecit. 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 SCENE IV.--Other Plains in Gascony.

When sapless age and weak unable limbs Enter SOMERSET, with his Army; a Captain of Should bring thy father to his drooping chair. TALBOT's with him.

But, О malignant and ill-boding stars !

Now thou art come unto a feast of death, Som. It is too late ; I cannot send them now: A terrible and unavoided danger: This expedition was by York and Talbot Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swiftest horse, Too rashly plotted: all our general force And I'll direct thee how thou shalt escape Might with a sally of the very town

By sudden flight : come, dally not, be gone. Be buckled with : the over-daring Talbot John. Is my name Talbot ? and am I your son? Hath sullied all his gloss of former honour And shall I fly? 0! if you love my mother, By this unheedful, desperate, wild adventure : Dishonour not her honourable name, York set him on to fight and die in shame, To make a bastard and a slave of me: That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the The world will say, he is not Talbot's blood name.

That basely fled when noble Talbot stocil. Cap. Here is Sir William Lucy, who with me Tal. Fly, to revenge my death if I be slain. Set from our o'ermatch'd forces forth for aid, 11 John. He that flies so will ne'er return again, Enter Sir WILLIAM LUCY.

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

John. Then let me stay; and father, do you lly: Som. How now, Sir William ! whither were Your loss is great, so your regard should be ; 2

My worth unknown, no loss is known in me. Lucy. Whither, my lord ? from bought and Upon my death the French can little boast; sold Lord Talbot ;

In yours they will, in you all hopes are lost. Who, ring'd about with bold adversity,

Flight cannot stain the honour you have won; Cries out for noble York and Somerset,

But mine it will that no exploit have done : To beat assailing death from his weak legions : You fled for vantage every one will swear ; And whiles the honourable captain there But if I bow, they 'll say it was for fear. Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs, There is no hope that ever I will stay And, in advantage lingering, looks for rescue, If the first hour I shrink and run away, You, his false hopes, the trust of England's Ilere, on my knee, I beg mortality, honour,

20 Rather than life preserv'el with infamy. Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.

Tal. Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one Let not your private discord keep away

tomb? The levied succours that should lend him aid, John. Ay, rather than I'll shame my mother's While he, renowned noble gentleman,

womb. Yields up his life unto a world of odds :

Tal. Upon my blessing I command thee go. Orleans the Bastard, Charles, Burgundy,

John. To fight I will, but not to fly the foe. Alençon, Reignier, compass him about,

Tal. Part of thy father may be savil in thec. And Talbot perisheth by your default.

John. No part of him but will be shame in me. Som. York set him on; York should have ?'al. Thou never hadst renown, nor canst not sent him aid.

lose it. Lucy. And York as fast upon your grace cx- John. Yes, your renowned name : shall light claims ;

abuse it ? Swearing that you withhold his levied host Tal. Thy father's charge shall clear thee from Collected for this expedition.

that stain. Som. York lies; he might have sent and had John. You cannot witness for me, being slain. the horse :

If death be so apparent, then both fly. I owe him little duty, and less love,

Tal. And leave my followers here to fight and And take foul scorn to fawn on him by sending. die ? Lucy. The fraud of England, not the force of My age was never tainted with such sbame. France,

John. And shall my youth be guilty of such Hath now entrapp'd the noble-minded Talbot. blame? Never to England shall he bear his life,

No more can I be sever'd from your side But dies, betray'd to fortune by your strife. Than can yourself yourself in twain divire. Som. Come, go; I will dispatch the horsemen | Stay, go, do what you will, the like do I; straight :

For live I will not if my father die. Within six hours they will be at his aid.

Tal. Then here I take my leave of thee, fair Lucy. Too late comes rescue: he is ta'en or son, slain,

Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon.


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Come, side by side together live and die, Thou Icarus. Thy life to me is sweet:
And soul with soul from France to heaven fly. If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's side,
Exeunt. And, commendable prov'd, let 's die in pride.

SCENE VI.-A Pielel of Battle.
Alarum. Excursions, ucherein TALBOT's Son is

SCENE VII.-- Another Part of the field. hemmed about, anul TALBOT rescues him. Alarums. Excursions. Enter TALBOT, wounded, Tal. Saint George and victory! fight, soldiers,

supported by a Servant. fight!

T'al. Where is my other life? mine own is The regent hath with Talbot broke his word,

gone : And left us to the rage of France his sword. 0! where's young Talbot ? where is valiant Where is John Talbot ? Pause, and take thy John ? breath;

Triumphant death, smear'd with captivity,
I gave thee life and rescu'd thee from death. Young Talbot's valour makes me smile at thee.

John. O! twice my father, twice am I thy son: When he perceiv'd me shirink and on my knce,
The life thou gav'st me first was lost and done, His bloody sword he brandish'd over me,
Till with thy war-like sword, despite of fate, And like a hungry lion did commence
To my determin'd time thou gav'st new date. Rough deeds of rage and stern impatience ;
Tal. When from the Dauphin's crest thy sword But when my angry guardant stood alone,
struck fire,

10 Tend'ring my ruin and assail'd of none,
It warm'd thy father's heart with proud desire Dizzy-eyed fury and great rage of heart
Of bold-fac'd victory. Then leaden age, Suddenly made him from my side to start
Quicken'd with youthfulspleen and war-likerage, Into the clust'ring battle of the French ;
Beat down Alençon, Orleans, Burgundy, And in that sea of blood my boy did drench
And from the pride of Gallia rescu'd thee. His over-mounting spirit ; and there died
The ireful bastard Orleans, that drew blood My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride.
From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood
Of thy first fight, I soon encountered,

Enter Soldiers, bearing the body of JOHN TALBOT. And, interchanging blows, I quickly shed Serv. 0! my dear lord, lo ! where your son is Some of his bastard blood ; and in disgrace 23 borne. Bespoke him thus : 'Contaminated, base

Tal. Thou antick death, which laugh’st us here And misbegotten blood I spill of thine,

to scorn, Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine Anon, from thy insulting tyranny, Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave Coupled in bonds of perpetuity, boy:'

Two Talbots, winged through the lither sky, Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy, In thy despite shall 'scape mortality. Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father's care, O! thou whose wounds become hard-favour'd Art thou not weary, John? how dost thou fare? death, Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and lly, Speak to thy father ere thou yield thy breath ; Now thou art seal'd the son of chivalry ? Brave death by speaking whether he will or no; Fly, to revenge my death when I am dead ; 30 Imagine him a Frenchman and thy foe. The help of one stands me in little stead. Poor boy! he smiles, methinks, as who should 0! too much folly is it, wel! I wot,

say, To hazard all our lives in one small boat. Had death been French, then death had died If I to-day die not with Frenchmen's rage,

to-day. To-morrow I shall die with mickle age :

Come, come, and lay him in his father's arms: · By me they nothing gain an if I stay ;

My spirit can no longer bear these harms. "Tis but the short'ning of my life one day. Soldiers, adieu! I have what I would have, In thee thy mother dies, our household's name, Now my old arms are young John Talbot's grave. My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's

Dics. fame. All these and more we hazard by thy stay ;

Alarums. Exeunt Soldiers and Servant, leaving All these are sav'd if thou wilt fly away.

the two bodies. Enter CHARLES, ALENÇON, John. The sword of Orleans hath not made

BURGUNDY, the Bastard of ORLEANS, JOAN me smart;

LA PUCELLE, and Forces. These words of yours draw life-blood from my Cha. Had York and Somerset brought rescue in heart.

We should have found a bloody day of this. On that advantage, bought with such a shame, Bast. How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging. To save a paltry life and slay bright fame,

wood, Before young Talbot from old Talbot lly, Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood ! The coward horse that bears me fall and die! Joan. Once I encounter'd him, and thus I said: And like me to the peasant boys of France, • Thou maiden youth, be vanquish'd by a maid ; To be shame's scorn and subject of mischance! But with a proud majestical high scorn, Surely, by all the glory you have won,

He answer'd thus : *Young Talbot was not born An if I fly, I am not Talbot's son :

To be the pillage of a giglot wench.' Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot; So, rushing in the bowels of the French, If son to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot.

He left me proudly, as unworthy fight. Tal. Then follow thou thy desperate sire of Bur. Doubtless he would have made a noble Crete,







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