Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Not Peer Reviewed

Henry VI, Part 1 (Modern)

Enter [the Duke of] Somerset with his army.
[To a Captain.] 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
2070Hath sullied all his gloss of former honor
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.
[Enter Lucy.]
Here is Sir William Lucy, who with me
2075Set from our o'er-matched forces forth for aid.
How now, Sir William, whither were you sent?
Whither, my Lord? From bought and sold Lord Talbot,
Who, ringed about with bold adversity,
Cries out for noble York and Somerset
2080To beat assailing death from his weak regions;
And whiles the honorable captain there
Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs
And, in advantage, ling'ring looks for rescue,
You his false hopes, the trust of England's honor,
2085Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.
Let not your private discord keep away
The levied succors that should lend him aid,
While he, renownèd noble gentleman,
Yield up his life unto a world of odds.
2090Orléans the Bastard, Charles, Burgundy,
Alencon, Reignier, compass him about,
And Talbot perisheth by your default.
York set him on, York should have sent him aid.
And York as fast upon your grace exclaims,
Swearing that you withhold his levied host
Collected for this expedition.
York lies. He might have sent and had the horse.
I owe him little duty and less love,
2100And take foul scorn to fawn on him by sending.
The fraud of England, not the force of France,
Hath now entrapped the noble-minded Talbot.
Never to England shall he bear his life,
But dies betrayed to fortune by your strife.
Come, go. I will dispatch the horsemen straight.
Within six hours they will be at his aid.
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.
If he be dead, brave Talbot, then adieu.
His fame lives in the world, his shame in you.
Exeunt [severally].