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,

Yield up his life unto a world of odds.

Orléans the Bastard, Charles, and Burgundy,

Alençon, René, 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 horse

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 entrapped the noble-minded Talbot.

Never to England shall he bear his life,

But dies betrayed 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 ⌈severally⌉

4.5 Enter Lord Talbot and his son John

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 shamed 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 severed from your side

Than can yourself your self 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

4.6 Alarum. Excursions, wherein Lord Talbot’s son John is hemmed about by French soldiers and Talbot rescues him. ⌈The English drive off the French⌉

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? (To John) 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 gav‘st me first was lost and done

Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate,

To my determined time thou gav’st new date.

TALBOT

When from the Dauphin’s crest thy sword struck fire

It warmed thy father’s heart with proud desire

Of bold-faced victory. Then leaden age,

Quickened with youthful spleen and warlike rage,

Beat down Alençon, Orléans, Burgundy,

And from the pride of Gallia rescued thee.

The ireful Bastard Orléans, that drew blood

From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood

Of thy first fight, I soon encountered,

And interchanging blows, I quickly shed