SCENE 2.France.Before Bordeaux
Enter TALBOT,with trump and drum
TALBOT.Go to the gates of Bordeaux,trumpeter;Summon their general unto the wall.
Trumpet sounds a parley.Enter,aloft,the GENERAL OF THE FRENCH,and others
English John Talbot,Captains,calls you forth,Servant in arms to Harry King of England;And thus he would open your city gates,Be humble to us,call my sovereignvours And do him homage as obedient subjects,And I'll withdraw me and my bloody power;But if you frown upon this proffer'd peace,You tempt the fury of my three attendants,Lean famine,quartering steel,and climbing fire;Who in a moment even with the earth Shall lay your stately and air braving towers,If you forsake the offer of their love.GENERAL OF THE FRENCH.Thou ominous and fearful owl of death,Our nation's terror and their bloody scourge!The period of thy tyranny approacheth.On us thou canst not enter but by death;For,I protest,we are well fortified,And strong enough to issue out and fight.If thou retire,the Dauphin,well appointed,Stands with the snares of war to tangle thee.On either hand thee there are squadrons pitch'd To wall thee from the liberty of flight,And no way canst thou turn thee for redress But death doth front thee with apparent spoil And pale destruction meets thee in the face.Ten thousand French have ta'en the sacrament To rive their dangerous artillery Upon no Christian soul but English Talbot.Lo,there thou stand'st,a breathing valiant man,Of an invincible unconquer'd spirit!This is the latest glory of thy praise That I,thy enemy,due thee withal;For ere the glass that now begins to run Finish the process of his sandy hour,These eyes that see thee now well coloured Shall see thee withered,bloody,pale,and dead.[Drum afar off]Hark!hark!The Dauphin's drum,a warning bell,Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul;And mine shall ring thy dire departure out.Exit TALBOT.He fables not;I hear the enemy.Out,some light horsemen,and peruse their wings.O,negligent and heedless discipline!How are we park'd and bounded in a pale A little herd of England's timorous deer,Maz'd with a yelping kennel of French curs!If we be English deer,be then in blood;Not rascal-like to fall down with a pinch,But rather,moody-mad and desperate stags,Turn on the bloody hounds with heads of steel And make the cowards stand aloof at bay.Sell every man his life as dear as mine,And they shall find dear deer of us,my friends.God and Saint George,Talbot and England's right,Prosper our colours in this dangerous fight!Exeunt
SCENE 3.Plains in Gascony
Enter YORK,with trumpet and many soldiers.A MESSENGER meets him
YORK.Are not the speedy scouts return'd again That dogg'd the mighty army of the Dauphin?MESSENGER.They are return'd,my lord,and give it out That he is march'd to Bordeaux with his power To fight with Talbot;as he march'd along,By your espials were discovered Two mightier troops than that the Dauphin led,Which join'd with him and made their march for Bordeaux.YORK.A plague upon that villain Somerset That thus delays my promised supply Of horsemen that were levied for this siege!Renowned Talbot doth expect my aid,And I am louted by a traitor villain And cannot help the noble chevalier.God comfort him in this necessity!If he miscarry,farewell wars in France.
Enter SIR WILLIAM LUCY
LUCY.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 Bordeaux,warlike Duke!to Bordeaux,York!Else,farewell Talbot,France,and England's honour.YORK.O God,that Somerset,who in proud heart 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 That thus we die while remiss traitors sleep.LUCY.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-All long of this vile traitor Somerset.LUCY.Then God take mercy on brave Talbot's soul,And on his son,young John,who two hours since I met in travel toward his warlike father.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?Away!vexation almost stops my breath,That sund'red friends greet in the hour of death.Lucy,farewell;no more my fortune can But curse the cause I cannot aid the man.Maine,Blois,Poictiers,and Tours,are won away Long all of Somerset and his delay.Exit with forces LUCY.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.Exit
SCENE 4.him
Other plains of Gascony
Enter SOMERSET,With his forces;an OFFICER of TALBOT'S with
SOMERSET.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 Hath sullied all his gloss of former honour 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.OFFICER.Here is Sir William Lucy,who with me Set from our o'er-match'd forces forth for aid.