Suddenly made him from my side to start 12
Into the clust'ring battle of the French;
And in that sea of blood my boy did drench
His overmounting spirit; and there died
My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride. 16
Enter [Soldiers] with John Talbot, borne.
Serv. O, my dear lord! lo, where your son is borne!
Tal. Thou antic, death, which laugh'st us here to scorn,
Anon, from thy insulting tyranny,
Coupled in bonds of perpetuity, 20
Two Talbots, winged through the lither sky,
In thy despite shall 'scape mortality.
O! thou, whose wounds become hard-favour'd death,
Speak to thy father ere thou yield thy breath; 24
Brave death by speaking whether he will or no;
Imagine him a Frenchman and thy foe.
Poor boy! he smiles, methinks, as who should say,
Had death been French, then death had died to-day. 28
Come, come, and lay him in his father's arms:
My spirit can no longer bear these harms.
Soldiers, adieu! I have what I would have,
Now my old arms are young John Talbot's grave. 32
Dies.
Enter Charles, Alençon, Burgundy, Bastard and Pucelle.
Char. Had York and Somerset brought rescue in,
We should have found a bloody day of this.
Bast. How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging-wood,
13 battle: main body
18 antic: buffoon
21 lither: yielding
23 become hard-favour'd: beautify ugly
25 Brave: defy
35 raging-wood: mad with rage
