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Henry VI part one

Act IV, Scene 7

 

Another part of the field.
 
[Alarum: excursions. Enter TALBOT led by a Servant]
 
TALBOT
             ,       ,       ,          ,         ,
      Where is | my ot|her life?| Mine^own | is gone;
           ,             ,         ,         ,    2    ,
      O where's | young Tal|bot? where | is val|iant John?
         ,          ,        ,            ,  ,
      Trium|phant death,| smeared with | capti/vity,
             ,         ,       ,          ,          ,
      Young Tal|bot's val|or makes | me smile | at thee:
            ,         ,           ,          ,        ,
      When he | perceived | me shrink | and on | my knee,
            ,       ,          ,         ,      ,
      His blood|y sword | he bran|dished o|ver me,
            ,       ,       ,      ,         ,
      And like | a hun|gry li|on, did | commence
        T     T    .   T          ,        ,     ,
      Rough deeds of rage,| and stern | impa|tience;
            ,        ,       ,         ,        ,
      But when | my an|gry guar|dant stood | alone,
       ,      ,        ,  2           ,          ,
10    Tender|ing my | ruin and | assailed | of none,
       ,       ,   ,                  ,         ,
      Dizzy-|eyed fu/ry and | great^rage | of heart
       ,          ,          ,         ,         ,
      Sudden|ly made | him from | my side | to start
       ,           ,     2    ,       ,          ,
      Into | the clus|tering bat|tle of | the French;
           ,         ,         ,         ,           ,
      And in | that sea | of blood | my boy | did drench
          ,       ,         ,              ,     ,
      His o|ver-moun|ting spir|it, and / there died,
          ,    ,        ,        ,         ,
      My Ic|arus,| my blos|som, in | his pride.
 
      Servant
               ,    ,     ,               ,         ,
      O my / dear lord,| lo where | your son | is borne.
 
[Enter Soldiers, with the body of JOHN TALBOT]
 
TALBOT
            ,       ,              ,           ,         ,
      Thou an|tic death,| which laughst | us here | to scorn,
         ,         ,       ,        ,     ,
      Anon | from thy | insul|ting tyr|anny,
        ,            ,         ,     ,   ,
20    Coupled | in bonds | of per|petu|ity,
           ,          ,        ,            ,      ,
      Two Tal|bots, wing|ed through | the lith|er sky,
          ,        ,          2    ,        ,    ,
      In thy | despite | shall escape | mortal|ity.
          ,             ,                ,   ,         ,
      O thou | whose^wounds | become / hard-fa|vored death,
        ,             ,       ,           ,            ,
      Speak to | thy fa|ther ere | thou yield | thy breath,
        T     T    .   T         ,      2     ,        ,
      Brave death by spea|king, whe|ther he will | or no;
        ,       ,         ,        ,         ,
      Ima|gine him | a French|man and | thy foe.
        T   T    .    T          ,         ,            ,
      Poor boy, he smiles,| methinks,| as who | should say,
            ,             ,            ,           ,       ,
      Had death | been French,| then death | had died | today.
             ,         ,         ,        ,          ,
      Come come | and lay | him in | his fa|ther's arms:
           ,      ,        ,        ,            ,
30    My spir|it can | no lon|ger bear | these harms.
       ,            ,        ,         ,           ,
      Soldiers | adieu:| I have | what I | would have,
           ,         ,          ,           ,          ,
      Now my | old^arms | are young | John^Tal|bot's grave.
 
[Dies. Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, BURGUNDY, BASTARD OF ORLEANS, JOAN LA PUCELLE, and forces]
 
CHARLES
           ,          ,     ,             ,       ,
      Had York | and Som|erset | brought res|cue in,
            ,            ,         ,      ,         ,
      We should | have found | a blood|y day | of this.
 
BASTARD OF ORLEANS
                  ,     ,         ,          ,        ,
      How the / young whelp | of Tal|bot's rag|ing wood,
            ,          ,      ,           ,           ,
      Did flesh | his pu|ny sword | in French|men's blood.
 
JOAN LA PUCELLE
        ,          ,         ,          ,        ,
      Once I | encoun|tered him,| and thus | I said:
            ,        ,         ,           ,       ,
      Thou mai|den youth,| be van|quished by | a maid:
            ,        ,        ,            ,    ,
      But with | a proud | majes|tical / high scorn,
          ,          ,           ,             ,    ,
40    He an|swered thus:| Young Tal|bot was / not born
          ,        ,        ,      ,        ,
      To be | the pil|lage of | a gig|lot wench:
           ,       ,        ,       ,          ,
      So rush|ing in | the bow|els of | the French,
           ,         ,        ,      ,        ,
      He left | me proud|ly, as | unwor|thy fight.
 
BURGUNDY
        ,              ,            ,       ,        ,
      Doubtless | he would | have made | a no|ble knight;
       ,               ,         ,      ,         ,
      See where | he lies | inhears|ed in | the arms
                 ,    ,      ,       ,         ,
      Of the / most blood|y nur|ser of | his harms.
 
BASTARD OF ORLEANS
       ,             ,         ,            ,       ,      o
      Hew them | to pie|ces, hack | their bones | asun|der,
              ,         ,          ,       ,    2    ,      o
      Whose life | was En|gland's glo|ry, Gal|lia's won|der.   (hex with prev)
 
CHARLES
         ,        ,          ,           ,          ,
      O no | forbear:| for that | which we | have fled
       ,             ,         ,         ,          ,
50    During | the life,| let us | not wrong | it dead.
 
      [Enter Sir William LUCY, attended; Herald of the French preceding]
 
LUCY
       ,            ,        ,        ,           ,
      Herald,| conduct | me to | the Dau|phin's tent,
           ,          ,         ,          ,    3  3     ,
      To know | who hath | obtained | the glo|ry of the day.
 
CHARLES
           ,        ,        ,        ,           ,
      On what | submiss|ive mes|sage art | thou sent?
 
LUCY
          ,        ,                   ,     ,     ,
      Submis|sion Dau|phin? 'tis a / mere French word;
          ,        ,           ,   ,        2     ,
      We En|glish wa|rriors / wot not | what it means.
          ,         ,           ,    2     ,           ,
      I come | to know | what pris|oners thou | hast tane
       ,           ,         ,       ,         ,
      And to | survey | the bod|ies of | the dead.
 
CHARLES
            ,            ,     ,      ,         ,         , ->
      For pris|oners / askst thou?| Hell our | prison || is.
              ,         ,           __     oo
      But | tell me | whom thou | seekst.|
 
LUCY
             ,            ,        ,      ,         ,
60    But where's | the great | Alci|des of | the field,
       ,         ,     ,         ,         ,    2
      Vali|ant Lord | Talbot,| Earl of | Shrewsbury,
         ,      ,          ,         ,         ,
      Crea|ted for | his rare | success | in arms,
              ,         ,         ,     2    ,     ,
      Great^Earl | of Wash|ford, Wat|erford and | Valence;
        ,   ,             ,            ,       ,
      Lord Tal/bot of | Goodrig | and Ur|chinfield,
        T     T     .   T     ,          ,    2      ,
      Lord Strange of Black|mere, Lord^|Verdun of | Alton,
             ,      2     ,    ,           ,   3  3       ,
      Lord Crom|well of Wing|field, Lord^|Furnival of | Sheffield,
             ,        ,   2     ,        ,       ,
      The thrice-|victo|rious Lord | of Fal|conbridge;
         ,             ,      ,            ,      ,
      Knight of | the no|ble or|der of / Saint George,
       ,         ,    ,                  ,         ,
      Worthy | Saint Mi/chael and | the Gol|den Fleece;
        ,    ,             ,            ,     oo
70    Great mar/shal to | Henry | the Sixth,|
          ,          ,         ,         ,           ,
      Of all | his wars | within | the realm | of France?
 
JOAN LA PUCELLE
        ,          ,       ,        ,         ,
      Here is | a sil|ly state|ly style | indeed:
            ,          ,         ,       ,         ,
      The Turk | that two | and fif|ty king|doms hath,
              ,        ,    ,        ,          ,
      Writes^not | so ted|ious | a style | as this.
       ,               ,      ,           ,           ,      ->
      Him that | thou mag|nifiest | with all | these tit||les
        ,      2     ,     T     T    T      2      ,
      Stink|ing and fly-|blown lies here | at our feet.
 
LUCY
          ,        ,            ,          ,       ,
      Is Tal|bot slain,| the French|men's on|ly scourge,
             ,         ,              ,    ,    ,
      Your king|dom's ter|ror and / black Nem|esis?
           ,          ,         ,     ,          ,
      Oh were | mine eye|balls in|to bul|lets turned,
           ,        ,            ,           ,         ,     ->
80    That I | in rage | might shoot | them at | your fa||ces.
       ,       2    ,           ,            ,         ,
      Oh,| that I could | but call | these dead | to life,
           ,        ,          ,           ,           ,
      It were | enough | to fright | the realm | of France.
            ,         ,         ,        ,           ,
      Were but | his pic|ture left | amongst | you here,
           ,        ,          ,        ,        ,
      It would | amaze | the proud|est of | you all.
        ,              ,      2     ,         ,           ,
      Give me | their bod|ies, that I | may bear | them hence
            ,          ,   2   ,       ,             ,
      And give | them bur|ial as | beseems | their worth.
 
JOAN LA PUCELLE
          ,           ,   ,             ,          ,
      I think | this up|start is | old^Tal|bot's ghost,
            ,            ,        ,         ,          x
      He speaks | with such | a proud | comman|ding spirit.
            ,       ,     2        ,             ,           ,
      For God's | sake let him | have him;| to keep | them here,
             ,           ,          ,     ,        ,
90    They would | but stink,| and put|refy | the air.
 
CHARLES
           ,           ,        ,
      Go take | their bod|ies hence.
 
LUCY
      <-       ,           ,       T    T    T      ,        ,          __
        I'll bear | them hence;|| but from their | ashes | shall be | reared
          ,        ,            ,     T     T   .  T
      A phoe|nix that | shall make | all France afeard.
 
CHARLES
          ,       ,      2       ,       2      ,           ,
      So we | be rid | of them, do | with him what | thou wilt.
           ,        ,       ,         ,     2      ,
      And now | to Par|is, in | this con|quering vein:
            ,         ,          ,      ,          ,
      All will | be ours,| now blood|y Tal|bot's^slain.
 
[Exeunt]

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