Henry VI, Part I by William Shakespeare
Act 4 - Scene 7
Another part of the field.
Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury : Where is my other life? mine own is gone;
[p]O, where's young Talbot?
where is valiant John?
[p]Triumphant death, smear'd with
captivity,
[p]Young Talbot's valour makes me smile at thee:
[p]When he
perceived me shrink and on my knee,
[p]His bloody sword he brandish'd
over me,
[p]And, like a hungry lion, did commence
[p]Rough deeds of
rage and stern impatience;
[p]But when my angry guardant stood
alone,
[p]Tendering my ruin and assail'd of none,
[p]Dizzy-eyed fury
and great rage of heart
[p]Suddenly made him from my side to
start
[p]Into the clustering battle of the French;
[p]And in that sea
of blood my boy did drench
[p]His over-mounting spirit, and there
died,
[p]My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride.
Servant : O, my dear lord, lo, where your son is borne!
Lord Talbot/Earl of Shrewsbury : Thou antic death, which laugh'st us here to scorn,
[p]Anon, from thy
insulting tyranny,
[p]Coupled in bonds of perpetuity,
[p]Two Talbots,
winged through the lither sky,
[p]In thy despite shall 'scape
mortality.
[p]O, thou, whose wounds become hard-favour'd
death,
[p]Speak to thy father ere thou yield thy breath!
[p]Brave
death by speaking, whether he will or no;
[p]Imagine him a Frenchman
and thy foe.
[p]Poor boy! he smiles, methinks, as who should
say,
[p]Had death been French, then death had died to-day.
[p]Come,
come and lay him in his father's arms:
[p]My spirit can no longer bear
these harms.
[p]Soldiers, adieu! I have what I would have,
[p]Now my
old arms are young John Talbot's grave.
[p][Dies]
[p][Enter CHARLES,
ALENCON, BURGUNDY, BASTARD OF]
[p]ORLEANS, JOAN LA PUCELLE, and
forces]
Charles, King of France : Had York and Somerset brought rescue in,
[p]We should have found a
bloody day of this.
Bastard of Orleans : How the young whelp of Talbot's, raging-wood,
[p]Did flesh his puny
sword in Frenchmen's blood!
Joan la Pucelle : Once I encounter'd him, and thus I said:
[p]'Thou maiden youth, be
vanquish'd by a maid:'
[p]But, with a proud majestical high
scorn,
[p]He answer'd thus: 'Young Talbot was not born
[p]To be the
pillage of a giglot wench:'
[p]So, rushing in the bowels of the
French,
[p]He left me proudly, as unworthy fight.
Bastard of Orleans : Hew them to pieces, hack their bones asunder
[p]Whose life was
England's glory, Gallia's wonder.
Charles, King of France : O, no, forbear! for that which we have fled
[p]During the life, let us
not wrong it dead.
[p][Enter Sir William LUCY, attended; Herald of
the]
[p]French preceding]
Sir William Lucy : Herald, conduct me to the Dauphin's tent,
[p]To know who hath obtained
the glory of the day.
Charles, King of France : On what submissive message art thou sent?
Sir William Lucy : Submission, Dauphin! 'tis a mere French word;
[p]We English warriors
wot not what it means.
[p]I come to know what prisoners thou hast
ta'en
[p]And to survey the bodies of the dead.
Charles, King of France : For prisoners ask'st thou? hell our prison is.
[p]But tell me whom
thou seek'st.
Sir William Lucy : But where's the great Alcides of the field,
[p]Valiant Lord Talbot,
Earl of Shrewsbury,
[p]Created, for his rare success in arms,
[p]Great
Earl of Washford, Waterford and Valence;
[p]Lord Talbot of Goodrig and
Urchinfield,
[p]Lord Strange of Blackmere, Lord Verdun of
Alton,
[p]Lord Cromwell of Wingfield, Lord Furnival of
Sheffield,
[p]The thrice-victorious Lord of Falconbridge;
[p]Knight of
the noble order of Saint George,
[p]Worthy Saint Michael and the
Golden Fleece;
[p]Great marshal to Henry the Sixth
[p]Of all his wars
within the realm of France?
Joan la Pucelle : Here is a silly stately style indeed!
[p]The Turk, that two and fifty
kingdoms hath,
[p]Writes not so tedious a style as this.
[p]Him that
thou magnifiest with all these titles
[p]Stinking and fly-blown lies
here at our feet.
Sir William Lucy : Is Talbot slain, the Frenchmen's only scourge,
[p]Your kingdom's
terror and black Nemesis?
[p]O, were mine eyeballs into bullets
turn'd,
[p]That I in rage might shoot them at your faces!
[p]O, that I
could but call these dead to life!
[p]It were enough to fright the
realm of France:
[p]Were but his picture left amongst you here,
[p]It
would amaze the proudest of you all.
[p]Give me their bodies, that I
may bear them hence
[p]And give them burial as beseems their worth.
Joan la Pucelle : I think this upstart is old Talbot's ghost,
[p]He speaks with such a
proud commanding spirit.
[p]For God's sake let him have 'em; to keep
them here,
[p]They would but stink, and putrefy the air.
Charles, King of France : Go, take their bodies hence.
Sir William Lucy : I'll bear them hence; but from their ashes shall be rear'd
[p]A
phoenix that shall make all France afeard.
Charles, King of France : So we be rid of them, do with 'em what thou wilt.
[p]And now to Paris,
in this conquering vein:
[p]All will be ours, now bloody Talbot's
slain.
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Next: Act 5 - Scene 1
