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: 131
Let me persuade you take a better course.

Exe. It grieves his highness:- good my lords, be friends.

King. Come hither, you that would be combatants:

Henceforth I charge you, as you love our fa

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 France!]

O, think upon the conquest of my father;
My tender years; and let us not forego
Thát for a trifle that was bought with blood!
Let me be umpire in this doubtful strife.
I see no reason, if I wear this rose,

151

[Putting 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, 160 So let us still continue peace and love.

1 Stomachs, anger, passions.

[Flourish. Exeunt all but York, Warrick, 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; 180 Other affairs must now be managed.

[Exeunt [all but Exeter.' Ere. Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice;

For, had the passions of thy heart burst out,
I fear we should have seen decipher'd there
More rancorous spite, more furious raging

[SCENE II. Before Bourdeaux.

Enter TALBOT, with his Forces.

Tal. Go to the gates of Bourdeaux, trum-
peter;

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, 10
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 our 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: 20
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. 30
Lo, there thou stand'st, a breathing valiant

Hark! hark! the Dauphin's drum, a warning

bell,

40

Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul; And mine shall ring thy dire departure out. [Exeunt General, &c.

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, 50
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 dear of us, my
friends.-

God and St. George, Talbot and England's right,

Prosper our colours in this dangerous fight! Exeunt.]

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 cause1 I cannot aid the man.—
[Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won

away,

Long all of2 Somerset and his delay. ]

[Exit with his soldiers. Lucy. Thus, while the vulture of sedition Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders, Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss

The conquest of our scarce cold conqueror, 50 That ever-living man of memory,

Henry the Fifth:- whiles they each other

cross,

Lives, honours, lands, and all, hurry to loss.

[Exit.

SCENE IV. Other plains in Gascony.

Enter SOMERSET, with his Forces; a Captain of 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

Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.3
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, and Burgundy,
Alençon, Reignier, compass him about,
And Talbot perisheth by your default. ]

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 horse, Collected for this expedition.

30

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.

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.
Som. Come, go; I will dispatch the horse-
men straight:

Within six hours they will be at his aid.

40

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. Som. 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.

Tal. O young John Talbot! I did send for thee

3 Worthless emulation, i.e. unworthy rivalry.