Other Plains in Gascony. |
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Enter SOMERSET, with his Army; 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 name. |
Cap. Here is Sir William Lucy, who with me |
Set from our o'ermatch'd forces forth for aid. |
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Enter SIR WILLIAM LUCY. |
Som. How now, Sir William! whither were you sent? |
Lucy. Whither, my lord? from bought and sold Lord Talbot; |
Who, ring'd about with bold adversity, |
Cries out for noble York and Somerset, |
To beat assailing death from his weak legions: |
And whiles the honourable captain there |
Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs, |
And, in advantage lingering, looks for rescue, |
You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honour, |
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, |
Yields up his life unto a world of odds: |
Orleans the Bastard, Charles, 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 host |
Collected for this expedition. |
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 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. |
Som. If he be dead, brave Talbot, then adieu! |
Lucy. His fame lives in the world, his shame in you. [Exeunt. |
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