Enter another Messenger [Sir William Lucy].
Sec. Mess. Thou princely leader of our English strength,
Never so needful on the earth of France,
Spur to the rescue of the noble Talbot,
Who now is girdled with a waist of iron 20
And hemm'd about with grim destruction.
To Bordeaux, warlike duke! To Bordeaux, York!
Else, farewell Talbot, France, and England's honour.
York. O God! that Somerset, who in proud heart 24
Doth stop my cornets, were in Talbot's place!
So should we save a valiant gentleman
By forfeiting a traitor and a coward.
Mad ire and wrathful fury makes me weep 28
That thus we die, while remiss traitors sleep.
Sec. Mess. O! send some succour to the distress'd lord.
York. He dies, we lose; I break my warlike word;
We mourn, France smiles; we lose, they daily get; 32
All long of this vile traitor Somerset.
Sec. Mess. Then God take mercy on brave Talbot's soul;
And on his son young John, whom two hours since
I met in travel toward his warlike father. 36
This seven years did not Talbot see his son;
And now they meet where both their lives are done.
York. Alas! what joy shall noble Talbot have,
To bid his young son welcome to his grave? 40
Away! vexation almost stops my breath
That sunder'd friends greet in the hour of death.
Lucy, farewell: no more my fortune can,
But curse the cause I cannot aid the man. 44
25 cornets: troops of horse
33 long of: on account of
