I owe him little duty, and less love;
35 And take foul scorn to fawn on him by sending.
Lucy. 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.
40 Som. Come, go; I will dispatch the horsemen straight:
Within six hours they will be at his aid.
[♦] Lucy. Too late comes rescue: he is ta’en or slain;
For fly he could not, if he would have fled;