The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [Vol. 5 of 9] · William Shakespeare
SCENE IV. _Other plains in Gascony_.
_Enter_ SOMERSET, _with his army; a_ Captain _of_ TALBOT’S _with him_. _Som._ It is too late; I cannot send them now: [add001] 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 ·add005· 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 ·add010· Set from our o’er-match’d forces forth for aid. [add011] _Enter_ Sir William Lucy. _Som._ How now, Sir William! whither were you sent? [add012] _Lucy._ Whither, my lord? from bought and sold Lord Talbot; [add013] Who, ring’d about with bold adversity, Cries out for noble York and Somerset, ·add015· To beat assailing death from his weak legions: [add016] And whiles the honourable captain there [add017] Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs, And, in advantage lingering, looks for rescue, [add019] You, his false hopes, the trust of England’s honour, ·add020· Keep off aloof with worthless emulation. Let not your private discord keep away The levied succours that should lend him aid, [add023] While he, renowned noble gentleman, Yields up his life unto a world of odds: [add025] Orleans the Bastard, Charles, Burgundy, [add026] Alençon, Reignier, compass him about, [add027] 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; ·add030· Swearing that you withhold his levied host, [add031] 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. ·add035· _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: ·add040· Within six hours they will be at his aid. _Lucy._ Too late comes rescue: he is ta’en or slain; [add042] For fly he could not, if he would have fled; And fly would Talbot never, though he might. [add044] _Som._ If he be dead, brave Talbot, then adieu! ·add045· _Lucy._ His fame lives in the world, his shame in you. [_Exeunt._
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.