<SPEECH 1><ACT 4><SCENE 3><68%>
<LUCY>	<69%>
	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
	And hemm'd about with grim destruction.
	To Bourdeaux, war-like duke! To Bourdeaux, York!
	Else, farewell Talbot, France, and England's honour.
</LUCY>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 4><SCENE 3><69%>
<LUCY>	<69%>
	O! send some succour to the distress'd lord.
</LUCY>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 4><SCENE 3><69%>
<LUCY>	<69%>
	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 war-like father.
	This seven years did not Talbot see his son;
	And now they meet where both their lives are done.
</LUCY>

<SPEECH 4><ACT 4><SCENE 3><69%>
<LUCY>	<70%>
	Thus, while the vulture of sedition
	Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders,
	Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss
	The conquest of our scarce cold conqueror,
	That ever living man of memory,
	Henry the Fifth: Whiles they each other cross,
	Lives, honours, lands, and all hurry to loss.
</LUCY>

<SPEECH 5><ACT 4><SCENE 4><70%>
<LUCY>	<71%>
	Whither, my lord? from bought and sold Lord Talbot;
	Who, ring'd about with bold adversity,
	Cries out for noble York and Somerset,
	To beat assailing death from his weak legions:
	And whiles the honourable captain there
	Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs,
	And, in advantage lingering, looks for rescue,
	You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honour,
	Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.
	Let not your private discord keep away
	The levied succours that should lend him aid,
	While he, renowned noble gentleman,
	Yields up his life unto a world of odds:
	Orleans the Bastard, Charles, Burgundy,
	Alençon, Reignier, compass him about,
	And Talbot perisheth by your default.
</LUCY>

<SPEECH 6><ACT 4><SCENE 4><71%>
<LUCY>	<71%>
	And York as fast upon your Grace exclaims;
	Swearing that you withhold his levied host
	Collected for this expedition.
</LUCY>

<SPEECH 7><ACT 4><SCENE 4><71%>
<LUCY>	<71%>
	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.
</LUCY>

<SPEECH 8><ACT 4><SCENE 4><71%>
<LUCY>	<72%>
	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.
</LUCY>

<SPEECH 9><ACT 4><SCENE 4><71%>
<LUCY>	<72%>
	His fame lives in the world, his shame in you.
</LUCY>

<SPEECH 10><ACT 4><SCENE 7><77%>
<LUCY>	<78%>
	Herald, conduct me to the Dauphin's tent,
	To know who hath obtain'd the glory of the day.
</LUCY>

<SPEECH 11><ACT 4><SCENE 7><77%>
<LUCY>	<78%>
	Submission, Dauphin! 'tis a mere French word;
	We English warriors wot not what it means.
	I come to know what prisoners thou hast ta'en,
	And to survey the bodies of the dead.
</LUCY>

<SPEECH 12><ACT 4><SCENE 7><78%>
<LUCY>	<78%>
	Where is the great Alcides of the field,
	Valiant Lord Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury?
	Created, for his rare success in arms,
	Great Earl of Washford, Waterford, and Valence;
	Lord Talbot of Goodrig and Urchinfield,
	Lord Strange of Blackmere, Lord Vordun of Alton,
	Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, Lord Furnival of Sheffield,
	The thrice-victorious Lord of Falconbridge;
	Knight of the noble order of Saint George,
	Worthy Saint Michael and the Golden Fleece;
	Great mareschal to Henry the Sixth
	Of all his wars within the realm of France?
</LUCY>

<SPEECH 13><ACT 4><SCENE 7><78%>
<LUCY>	<79%>
	Is Talbot slain, the Frenchmen's only scourge,
	Your kingdom's terror and black Nemesis?
	O! were mine eye-balls into bullets turn'd,
	That I in rage might shoot them at your faces!
	O! that I could but call these dead to life!
	It were enough to fright the realm of France.
	Were but his picture left among you here
	It would amaze the proudest of you all.
	Give me their bodies, that I may bear them hence,
	And give them burial as beseems their worth.
</LUCY>

<SPEECH 14><ACT 4><SCENE 7><79%>
<LUCY>	<79%>
	I'll bear them hence:
	But from their ashes shall be rear'd
	A phœnix that shall make all France afeard.
</LUCY>

