REIGNIER.
Let’s raise the siege. Why live we idly here?
Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear.
Remaineth none but mad-brain’d Salisbury,
And he may well in fretting spend his gall;
Nor men nor money hath he to make war.
CHARLES.
Sound, sound alarum! We will rush on them.
Now for the honour of the forlorn French!
Him I forgive my death that killeth me
When he sees me go back one foot or fly.
[Exeunt.]
Here alarum; they are beaten back by the English, with great loss. Re-enter Charles, Alençon and Reignier.
CHARLES.
Who ever saw the like? What men have I!
Dogs, cowards, dastards! I would ne’er have fled
But that they left me ’midst my enemies.
REIGNIER.
Salisbury is a desperate homicide;
He fighteth as one weary of his life.
The other lords, like lions wanting food,
Do rush upon us as their hungry prey.
ALENÇON.
Froissart, a countryman of ours, records,
England all Olivers and Rowlands bred
During the time Edward the Third did reign.
More truly now may this be verified;
For none but Samsons and Goliases
It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten!
Lean raw-bon’d rascals! Who would e’er suppose
They had such courage and audacity?
CHARLES.
Let’s leave this town; for they are hare-brain’d slaves,
And hunger will enforce them to be more eager.
Of old I know them; rather with their teeth
The walls they’ll tear down than forsake the siege.
REIGNIER.
I think by some odd gimmers or device
Their arms are set like clocks, still to strike on;
Else ne’er could they hold out so as they do.
By my consent, we’ll even let them alone.
ALENÇON.
Be it so.