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Yields up his life unto a world of odds.
Orleans the Baftard, Charles, and Burgundy,
Alanfon, Reignier, compass him about;
And Talbot perifheth by your default.

Som. York fet him on, York fhould have fent him aid. Lucy. And York as faft upon your Grace exclaims; Swearing, that you with-hold his levied hoft, Collected for this expedition.

Som. York lies; he might have fent, and had the horse;

I owe him little duty and less love,

And take foul fcorn to fawn on him by fending.
Lucy. The fraud of England, not the force of France,
Hath now entrapt the noble-minded Talbot;
Never to England fhall he bear his life,

But dies, betray'd to fortune by your ftrife.

Som. Come, go; I will difpatch the horsemen strait: Within fix hours they will be at his aid.

Lucy. Too late comes refcue; he is ta'en, or flain; 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 fhame in you. [Exeunt.

Tal.

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A Field of Battle near Bourdeaux.

Enter Talbot and his fon.

Young John Talbot, I did fend for thee
To tutor thee in ftratagems of war,
That Talbot's name might be in thee reviv'd,
When faplefs age, and weak unable limbs,
Should bring thy father to his drooping chair.
But, O malignant and ill-boading ftars!
Now art thou come unto a feast of death,

** A feaft of death.] To a field where death will be feafted with flaughter.

A ter

A terrible and unavoided danger.

Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swifteft horse;
And I'll direct thee how thou fhalt escape

By fudden flight. Come, dally not; begone.
John. Is my name Talbot? and am I your fon?
And fhall I fly? O! if you love my mother,
Difhonour not her honourable name,

To make a baftard, and a slave of me.
The world will fay, he is not Talbot's blood,
That bafely fled, when noble Talbot stood.

Tal. Fly, to revenge my death, if I be slain.
John. He that flies fo, will ne'er return again.
Tal. If we both ftay, we both are fure to die.
John. Then let me ftay, and, father, do you fly;
Your lofs is great, fo* your regard fhould be,
My worth unknown, no lofs is known in me,
Upon my death the French can little boaft,
In yours they will, in you all hopes are loft.
Flight cannot ftain the honour you have won,
But mine it will, that no exploit have done;
You fled for vantage, ev'ry one will swear,
But if I bow, they'll fay, it was for fear.
There is no hope that ever I will stay,
If the first hour I fhrink, and run away.
Here, on my knee, I beg mortality,
Rather than life preferv'd with infamy.

Tal. Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb?
John. Ay, rather than I'll fhame my mother's womb.
Tal. Upon my bleffing I command thee go.
John. To fight I will, but not to fly the foe.
Tal. Part of thy father may be fav'd in thee.
John. No part of him, but will be fhame in me.

? For what reafon this fcene is written in rhyme I cannot guefs. If Shakespeare had not in other plays mingled his rhymes and blank verfes in the fame manner, I fhould have fufpected that this dialogue had been a part of fome

other poem which was never finifhed, and that being loath to throw his labour away, he inferted it here..

Your regard.] Your care of your own fafety. 002

Tal.

Tal. Thou never hadft renown, nor canst not lose it. John. Yes, your renowned name; fhall flight abuse it? Tal. Thy father's charge fhall clear thee from that ftain.

John. You cannot witness for me, being flain,

If death be fo apparent, then both fly.

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Tal. And leave my followers here to fight and die? My age was never tainted with fuch fhame.

John. And fhall my youth be guilty of fuch blame? No more can I be fever'd from your fide, 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.

Tal. Then here I take my leave of thee, fair son, Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon.

Come, fide by fide, together live and die ;

And foul with foul from France to heaven fly. [Exeunt.

Alarm: excurfions, wherein Talbot's fon is bemm'd about, and Talbot rescues him.

Tal. St. George, and victory! fight, foldiers, fight: The Regent hath with Talbot broke his word, And left us to the rage of France's fword.

Where is John Talbot? paufe, and take thy breath; I gave thee life, and refcu'd thee from death.

John. O, twice my father! twice am I thy fon;
The life thou gav'ft me first was loft and done,
Till with thy warlike fword, defpight of fate,
To my determin'd time thou gav'st new date.
Tal. When from the Dauphin's creft thy sword struck
fire,

It warm'd thy father's heart with proud defire
Of bold-fac'd victory. Then leaden age,
Quicken'd with youthful fpleen and warlike rage,
Beat down Alanfon, Orleans, Burgundy,

And from the pride of Gallia rescu'd thee.

The

The ireful bastard Orleans, that drew blood
From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood
Of thy first Fight, I foon encountered,
And, interchanging blows, I quickly fhed
Some of his baitard blood; and in difgrace
Bespoke him thus; Contaminated, bafe,
And mif-begotten blood I fpill of thine,
Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine,
Which thou didft force from Talbot, my brave boy-
Here, purpofing the Baftard to destroy,

Came in ftrong refcue. Speak, thy father's care,
Art not thou weary, John? how doft thou fare?
Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly,
Now thou art feal'd the fon of Chivalry?
Fly, to revenge my death, when I am dead;
The help of one ftands me in little stead.
Oh, too much folly is it, well I wot,
To hazard all our lives in one fmall boat.
If I to-day die not with Frenchmens' rage,
To-morrow I fhall die with mickle age;
By me they nothing gain; and, if I stay,
'Tis but the fhortning of my life one day;
In thee thy mother dies, our houfhold's name,
My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame,
All these, and more, we hazard by thy stay,
All these are fav'd, if thou wilt Ay away.

John. The fword of Orleans hath not made me fmart,
These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart.
Oh what advantage bought with fuch a shame,
To fave a paultry life, and flay bright fame!

On that advantage, bought with fuch a Shame, To Save a paltry life, and flay bright Fame! This paffage feems to lie obfcure and difjointed. Neither the Grammar is to be justified; nor is the Sen

I

Before

timent better. I have ventur'd at a flight Alteration, which departs fo little from the Reading which has obtain'd, but so much raifes the Senfe, as well as takes away the Obfcurity, that I am willing to think it restores the 003

Author's

2

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 fhame's fcorn, and fubject of mifchance.
Surely, by all the glory you have won,
An if I fly, I am not Talbot's fon.

Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot;
If fon to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot.

Tal. Then follow thou thy defp'rate Sire of Crete, Thou Icarus! thy life to me is sweet:

If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's fide;
And, commendable prov'd, let's die in pride. [Exeunt.

SCENE VII.

Alarm. Excurfions. Enter old Talbot, led by the French.

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!
Young Talbot's valour makes me fmile at thee.
When he perceiv'd me fhrink, and on my knee,
His bloody fword he brandifh'd over me,
And, like a hungry Lion, did commence
Rough deeds of rage, and stern impatience;

Author's Meaning;

Out on that vantage.

THEOBALD.

Sir T. Hanmer reads, Oh what advantage, which I have followed, though Mr. Theobald's conjecture may be well enough admitted.

2 And like me to the pealant boys of France,] To like one to the peasants is, to compare, to level by comparifor, the line is therefore intelligible enough by

itfelf, but in this fenfe it wants connection. Sir T. Hanmer reads, And leave me, which makes a clear fenfe and juft confequence. But as change is not to be al lowed without neceffity, I have fuffered like to ftand, because I fuppofe the authour meant the fame as make like, or reduce to a level with.

Death fmear'd with capti vity.] That is, death flained and dishonoured with captivity. But

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