LUCY.
Is Talbot slain, the Frenchman’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!
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,
It would amaze the proudest of you all.
Give me their bodies, that I may bear them hence
And give them burial as beseems their worth.
PUCELLE.
I think this upstart is old Talbot’s ghost,
He speaks with such a proud commanding spirit.
For God’s sake, let him have them; to keep them here,
They would but stink and putrify the air.
CHARLES.
Go, take their bodies hence.
LUCY.
I’ll bear them hence;
But from their ashes shall be rear’d
A phoenix that shall make all France afeard.
CHARLES.
So we be rid of them, do with them what thou wilt.
And now to Paris in this conquering vein.
All will be ours, now bloody Talbot’s slain.
[Exeunt.]
ACT V
SCENE I. London. The Palace.
Sennet. Enter King, Gloucester and Exeter.
KING HENRY.
Have you perused the letters from the Pope,
The Emperor, and the Earl of Armagnac?