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Poor boy! he smiles, methinks; as who should

sayHad death been French, then death had died to

day. Come, come, and lay him in his father's arms; My spirit can no longer bear these harms. Soldiers, adieu! I have what I would have, Now my old arms are young John Talbot's grave.


Alarums. Exeunt Soldiers and Servant, leaving the

two Bodies. Enter CHARLES, ALENÇON, BURGUNDY, Bastard, LA PUCELLE, and Forces.

Char. Had York and Somerset brought rescue in, We should have found a bloody day of this. Bast. How the young whelp of Talbot's raging

wood, Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen's blood !4

Puc. Once I encounter'd him, and thus I said, Thou maiden youth be vanquish'd by a maid: But—with a proud, majestical high scorn, He answered thus; Young Talbot was not born To be the pillage of a giglot wench:' So, rushing in the bowels of the French, He left me proudly, as unworthy fight. Bur. Doubtless, he would have made a noble

knight: See, where he lies inhersed in the arms Of the most bloody nurser of his harms.

raging-wood,] i. e. raging mad.

in Frenchmen's blood!] The return of rhyme where young Talbot is again mentioned, and in no other place, strengthens the suspicion that these verses were originally part of some other work, and were copied here only to save the trouble of composing new. Johnson.

—of a giglot wench:] Giglot is a wanton, or a strumpet. VOL. VI.



Bast. Hew them to pieces, hack their bones

asunder; Whose life was England's glory, Gallia's wonder. Char. O, no; forbear: for that which we have

fied During the life, let us not wrong it dead.

Enter Sir William Lucy, attended; a French

Herald preceding
Lucy. Herald,
Conduct me to the Dauphin's tent; to know
Who hath obtain'd the glory of the day.

Char. On what submissive message art thou sent?
Lucy. Submission, Dauphin? 'tis a mere French

word; We English warriors wot not what it means. I come to know what prisoners thou hast ta'en, And to survey the bodies of the dead. Char. For prisoners ask'st thou? hell our prison

is. But tell me whom thou seek'st.

Lucy. Where is the great Alcides of the field,
Valiant lord Talbot, earl of Shrewsbury?
Created, for his rare success in arms,
Great earl of Washford, Waterford, and Valence;
Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield,
Lord Strange of Blackmere, lord Verdun of Alton,
Lord Cromwell, of Wingfield, Lord Furnival of

The thrice victorious lord of Falconbridge;
Knight of the noble order of Saint George,
Worthy Saint Michael, and the golden fleece;
Great mareshal to Henry the sixth,
Of all his wars within the realm of France?

Puc. Here is a silly stately style indeed!
The Turk, that two and fifty kingdoms hath,

your faces!

Writes not so tedious a style as this.-
Him, that thou magnifiest with all these titles,
Stinking, and fly-blown, lies here at our feet.
Lucy. Is Talbot slain; the Frenchmen's only

Your kingdoms terrour and black Nemesis?
O, were mine eye-balls into bullets turn’d,
That I, in rage, might shoot them at
O, that I could but call these dead to life!
It were enough to fright the realm of France:
Were but his picture left among you here,
It would amaze the proudest of you

Give me their bodies; that I may bear them hence,
And give them burial as beseems their worth.

Puc. I think, this upstart is old Talbot's ghost, He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit. For God's sake, let him have 'em; to keep them

They would but stink, and putrefy the air.

Char. Go, take their bodies hence.

I'll bear them hence:
But from their ashes shall be rear'd
A phenix that shall make all France afeard.
Char. So we be rid of them, do with 'em what

thou wilt.
And now to Paris, in this conquering vein;
All will be ours, now bloody Talbot's slain. [Exeunt.



SCENE I. London. A Room in the Palace.

Enter King HENRY, Gloster, and Exeter.
K. Hen. Have you perus’d the letters from the

The emperor, and the earl of Armagnac?

Glo. I have, my lord; and their intent is this, They humbly sue unto your excellence, To have a godly peace concluded of, Between the realms of England and of France. K. Hen. How doth your grace affect their mo

tion? Glo. Well, my good lord; and as the only means To stop effusion of our Christian blood, And 'stablish quietness on every side. .

K. Hen. Ay, marry, uncle; for I always thought, It was both impious and unnatural, That such immanity and bloody strife Should reign among professors of one faith.

Glo. Beside, my lord,—the sooner to effect,
And surer bind, this knot of amity,
The earl of Armagnac-near knit to Charles,
A man of great authority in France,-
Proffers his only daughter to your grace
In marriage, with a large and sumptuous dowry.
K. Hen. Marriage, uncle! alas! my years are

And fitter is my study and my books,
Than wanton dalliance with a paramour.
Yet, call the ambassadors; and, as you please,

immanity-] i. e. barbarity, savageness.


So let them have their answers every one:
I shall be well content with any choice,
Tends to God's glory, and my country's weal.

Enter a Legate, and Two Ambassadors, with Win

CHESTER, in a Cardinals Habit.

Exe. What! is my lord of Winchester installid, And callid unto a cardinal's degree !? Then, I perceive, that will be verified, Henry the fifth did sometime prophecy,If once he come to be a cardinal, He'll make his cap co-equal with the crown.

K. Hen. My lords ambassadors, your several suits Have been consider'd and debated on. Your purpose is both good and reasonable: And, therefore, are we certainly resolvid To draw conditions of a friendly peace; Which, by my lord of Winchester, we mean Shall be transported presently to France. Glo. And for the proffer of my


your master, I have inform’d his highness so at large, As—liking of the lady's virtuous gifts, Her beauty, and the value of her dower, He doth intend she shall be England's queen. K. Hen. In argument and proof of which con

tract, Bear her this jewel, [To the Amb.] pledge of my

affection. And so, my lord protector, see them guarded, And safely brought to Dover; where, inshippd,

? What! is my lord of Winchester install d,

And call d unto a cardinal's degree!] This argues a great forgetfulness in the poet. In the first Act Gloster says:

I'll canvass thee in thy broad cordinal's hat:" and it is strange that the Duke of Exeter should not know of his advancement.

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