The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [Vol. 5 of 9] · William Shakespeare
SCENE VII. _Another part of the field_.
_Enter_ CHARLES, ALENÇON, BURGUNDY, Bastard, LA PUCELLE, _and forces_. _Char._ Had York and Somerset brought rescue in, [adg033] We should have found a bloody day of this. _Bast._ How the young whelp of Talbot’s, raging-wood, [adg035] Did flesh his puny sword in Frenchmen’s blood! _Puc._ Once I encounter’d him, and thus I said: ‘Thou maiden youth, be vanquish’d by a maid:’ But, with a proud majestical high scorn, [adg039] He answer’d thus: ‘Young Talbot was not born ·adg040· To be the pillage of a giglot wench:’ So, rushing in the bowels of the French, [adg042] He left me proudly, as unworthy fight. _Bur._ Doubtless he would have made a noble knight: See, where he lies inhearsed in the arms ·adg045· Of the most bloody nurser of his harms! [adg046] _Bast._ Hew them to pieces, hack their bones asunder, Whose life was England’s glory, Gallia’s wonder. _Char._ O, no, forbear! for that which we have fled During the life, let us not wrong it dead. [adg050] _Enter_ Sir WILLIAM LUCY, _attended;_ Herald _of the_ French _preceding_. _Lucy._ Herald, conduct me to the Dauphin’s tent, [adg051] To know who hath obtain’d the glory of the day. [adg052] _Char._ On what submissive message art thou sent? _Lucy._ Submission, Dauphin! ’tis a mere French word; We English warriors wot not what it means. ·adg055· I come to know what prisoners thou hast ta’en And to survey the bodies of the dead.
_Char._ For prisoners ask’st thou? hell our prison is. But tell me whom thou seek’st. [adg059] _Lucy._ But where’s the great Alcides of the field, [adg060] Valiant Lord Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, [adg061] 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 Verdun of Alton, ·adg065· Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, Lord Furnival of Sheffield, [adg066] The thrice-victorious Lord of Falconbridge; Knight of the noble order of Saint George, Worthy Saint Michael and the Golden Fleece; Great marshal to Henry the Sixth [adg070] Of all his wars within the realm of France? _Puc._ Here is a silly stately style indeed! [adg072] The Turk, that two and fifty kingdoms hath, Writes not so tedious a style as this. Him that thou magnifiest with all these titles [adg075] Stinking and fly-blown lies here at our feet. _Lucy._ 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! ·adg080· O, that I could but call these dead to life! It were enough to fright the realm of France: Were but his picture left amongst you here, [adg083] It would amaze the proudest of you all. Give me their bodies, that I may bear them hence [adg085] And give them burial as beseems their worth.
_Puc._ I think this upstart is old Talbot’s ghost, He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit. [adg088] For God’s sake, let him have ’em; to keep them here, [adg089] They would but stink, and putrefy the air. ·adg090· _Char._ Go, take their bodies hence. _Lucy._ I’ll bear them hence; but from their ashes shall be rear’d [adg092] A phœnix that shall make all France afeard. _Char._ So we be rid of them, do with ’em what thou wilt. [adg094] And now to Paris, in this conquering vein: ·adg095· All will be ours, now bloody Talbot’s slain. [adg096] [_Exeunt._
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.