The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [Vol. 5 of 9] · William Shakespeare
SCENE II. _France. Before Rouen_.
_Enter_ LA PUCELLE _on the top, thrusting out a torch burning_. _Puc._ Behold, this is the happy wedding torch That joineth Rouen unto her countrymen, But burning fatal to the Talbotites! [acb028] [_Exit._ _Bast._ See, noble Charles, the beacon of our friend; The burning torch in yonder turret stands. ·acb030· _Char._ Now shine it like a comet of revenge, [acb031] A prophet to the fall of all our foes! _Reign._ Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends; Enter, and cry ‘The Dauphin!’ presently, And then do execution on the watch. [_Alarum. Exeunt._ [acb035] _An alarum. Enter_ TALBOT _in an excursion_. _Tal._ France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy tears, [acb036] If Talbot but survive thy treachery. Pucelle, that witch, that damned sorceress, Hath wrought this hellish mischief unawares, That hardly we escaped the pride of France. [_Exit._ [acb040] _An alarum: excursions._ BEDFORD, _brought in sick in a chair. Enter_ TALBOT _and_ BURGUNDY _without: within_ LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, BASTARD, ALENÇON, _and_ REIGNIER, _on the walls_. _Puc._ Good morrow, gallants! want ye corn for bread? [acb041] I think the Duke of Burgundy will fast [acb042] Before he’ll buy again at such a rate: ’Twas full of darnel; do you like the taste? _Bur._ Scoff on, vile fiend and shameless courtezan! ·acb045· I trust ere long to choke thee with thine own And make thee curse the harvest of that corn.
_Char._ Your grace may starve perhaps before that time. _Bed._ O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this treason! _Puc._ What will you do, good grey-beard? break a lance, [acb050] And run a tilt at death within a chair? _Tal._ Foul fiend of France, and hag of all despite, [acb052] Encompass’d with thy lustful paramours! Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age, And twit with cowardice a man half dead? ·acb055· Damsel, I’ll have a bout with you again, Or else let Talbot perish with this shame. [acb057] _Puc._ Are ye so hot, sir? yet, Pucelle, hold thy peace; [acb058] If Talbot do but thunder, rain will follow. [acb059] [_The English whisper together in council._ God speed the parliament! who shall be the speaker? [acb060] _Tal._ Dare ye come forth and meet us in the field? _Puc._ Belike your lordship takes us then for fools, To try if that our own be ours or no. _Tal._ I speak not to that railing Hecate, But unto thee, Alençon, and the rest; ·acb065· Will ye, like soldiers, come and fight it out? _Alen._ Signior, no. _Tal._ Signior, hang! base muleters of France! [acb068] Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the walls And dare not take up arms like gentlemen. ·acb070· _Puc._ Away, captains! let’s get us from the walls; [acb071] For Talbot means no goodness by his looks. God be wi’ you, my lord! we came but to tell you [acb073] That we are here. [_Exeunt from the walls._
_Tal._ And there will we be too, ere it be long, ·acb075· Or else reproach be Talbot’s greatest fame! Vow, Burgundy, by honour of thy house, Prick’d on by public wrongs sustain’d in France, Either to get the town again or die: And I, as sure as English Henry lives ·acb080· And as his father here was conqueror, As sure as in this late-betrayed town Great Cœur-de-lion’s heart was buried, So sure I swear to get the town or die. _Bur._ My vows are equal partners with thy vows. ·acb085· _Tal._ But, ere we go, regard this dying prince, The valiant Duke of Bedford. Come, my lord, We will bestow you in some better place, Fitter for sickness and for crazy age. _Bed._ Lord Talbot, do not so dishonour me: ·acb090· Here will I sit before the walls of Rouen And will be partner of your weal or woe. [acb092] _Bur._ Courageous Bedford, let us now persuade you. _Bed._ Not to be gone from hence; for once I read That stout Pendragon in his litter sick ·acb095· Came to the field and vanquished his foes: Methinks I should revive the soldiers’ hearts, Because I ever found them as myself. _Tal._ Undaunted spirit in a dying breast! [acb099] Then be it so: heavens keep old Bedford safe! ·acb100· And now no more ado, brave Burgundy, But gather we our forces out of hand And set upon our boasting enemy. [acb103] [_Exeunt all but Bedford and Attendants._
_An alarum: excursions. Enter_ SIR JOHN FASTOLFE _and a_ Captain. _Cap._ Whither away, Sir John Fastolfe, in such haste? [acb104] _Fast._ Whither away! to save myself by flight: ·acb105· We are like to have the overthrow again. _Cap._ What! will you fly, and leave Lord Talbot? _Fast._ Ay, [acb107] All the Talbots in the world, to save my life. [_Exit_ _Cap._ Cowardly knight! ill fortune follow thee! [_Exit._ _Retreat: excursions._ LA PUCELLE, ALENÇON _and_ CHARLES _fly_. _Bed._ Now, quiet soul, depart when heaven please, ·acb110· For I have seen our enemies’ overthrow. What is the trust or strength of foolish man? They that of late were daring with their scoffs Are glad and fain by flight to save themselves. [_Bedford dies, and is carried in by two in his chair._ _An alarum. Re-enter_ TALBOT, BURGUNDY, _and the rest_. _Tal._ Lost, and recover’d in a day again! [acb115] This is a double honour, Burgundy: Yet heavens have glory for this victory! [acb117] _Bur._ Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy [acb118] Enshrines thee in his heart and there erects Thy noble deeds as valour’s monuments. ·acb120· _Tal._ Thanks, gentle duke. But where is Pucelle now? I think her old familiar is asleep: Now where’s the Bastard’s braves, and Charles his gleeks? [acb123] What, all amort? Rouen hangs her head for grief That such a valiant company are fled. ·acb125· Now will we take some order in the town, Placing therein some expert officers, And then depart to Paris to the king, For there young Henry with his nobles lie. [acb129] _Bur._ What wills Lord Talbot pleaseth Burgundy. ·acb130· _Tal._ But yet, before we go, let’s not forget The noble Duke of Bedford late deceased, But see his exequies fulfill’d in Rouen: A braver soldier never couched lance, A gentler heart did never sway in court; ·acb135· But kings and mightiest potentates must die, For that’s the end of human misery. [_Exeunt._
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.