Henry VI, Pt. 1
Act IV, Scene 2
France. Before Bourdeaux.
John Talbot, 1st Earl of Shrewsbury
John Talbot, circa 1445
- Enter Talbot with Trump and Drum before Bordeaux.
Lord Talbot
1 - 14- Go to the gates of Bordeaux, trumpeter,
- Summon their general unto the wall.
- Trumpet sounds. Enter General and others aloft.
- 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 sovereign yours,
- 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
15 - 41- 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 colored,
- 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 with others above.
Lord Talbot
42 - 56- 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 colors in this dangerous fight!
- Exeunt.