WINCHESTER.
What! Wherein Talbot overcame, is’t so?
MESSENGER.
O no, wherein Lord Talbot was o’erthrown.
The circumstance I’ll tell you more at large.
The tenth of August last this dreadful lord,
Retiring from the siege of Orleans,
Having full scarce six thousand in his troop,
By three and twenty thousand of the French
Was round encompassed and set upon.
No leisure had he to enrank his men;
He wanted pikes to set before his archers;
Instead whereof sharp stakes pluck’d out of hedges
They pitched in the ground confusedly
To keep the horsemen off from breaking in.
More than three hours the fight continued;
Where valiant Talbot, above human thought,
Enacted wonders with his sword and lance.
Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him;
Here, there, and everywhere, enrag’d he slew.
The French exclaim’d the devil was in arms;
All the whole army stood agaz’d on him.
His soldiers, spying his undaunted spirit,
“A Talbot! a Talbot!” cried out amain,
And rush’d into the bowels of the battle.
Here had the conquest fully been seal’d up
If Sir John Fastolf had not play’d the coward.
He, being in the vaward, plac’d behind
With purpose to relieve and follow them,
Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke.
Hence grew the general wrack and massacre.
Enclosed were they with their enemies.
A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin’s grace,
Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back,
Whom all France, with their chief assembled strength,
Durst not presume to look once in the face.
BEDFORD.
Is Talbot slain? Then I will slay myself,
For living idly here, in pomp and ease,
Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid,
Unto his dastard foemen is betray’d.
MESSENGER.
O no, he lives, but is took prisoner,
And Lord Scales with him, and Lord Hungerford;
Most of the rest slaughter’d or took likewise.
BEDFORD.
His ransom there is none but I shall pay.
I’ll hale the Dauphin headlong from his throne;
His crown shall be the ransom of my friend;
Four of their lords I’ll change for one of ours.
Farewell, my masters; to my task will I;
Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make
To keep our great Saint George’s feast withal.
Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take,
Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake.
MESSENGER.
So you had need; for Orleans is besieg’d
The English army is grown weak and faint;
The Earl of Salisbury craveth supply
And hardly keeps his men from mutiny,
Since they, so few, watch such a multitude.
[He exits.]
EXETER.
Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn,
Either to quell the Dauphin utterly,
Or bring him in obedience to your yoke.
BEDFORD.
I do remember it, and here take my leave
To go about my preparation.
[Exit.]