TALBOT.
Lost, and recover’d in a day again!
This is a double honour, Burgundy.
Yet heavens have glory for this victory!
BURGUNDY.
Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy
Enshrines thee in his heart, and there erects
Thy noble deeds as valour’s monuments.
TALBOT.
Thanks, gentle Duke. But where is Pucelle now?
I think her old familiar is asleep.
Now where’s the Bastard’s braves, and Charles his gleeks?
What, all amort? Rouen hangs her head for grief
That such a valiant company are fled.
Now will we take some order in the town,
Placing therein some expert officers,
And then depart to Paris to the King,
For there young Henry with his nobles lie.
BURGUNDY.
What wills Lord Talbot pleaseth Burgundy.
TALBOT.
But yet, before we go, let’s not forget
The noble Duke of Bedford late deceased,
But see his exequies fulfill’d in Rouen.
A braver soldier never couched lance,
A gentler heart did never sway in court;
But kings and mightiest potentates must die,
For that’s the end of human misery.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III. The plains near Rouen.
Enter Charles, the Bastard of Orleans, Alençon, La Pucelle and forces.
PUCELLE.
Dismay not, princes, at this accident,
Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered.
Care is no cure, but rather corrosive,
For things that are not to be remedied.
Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while
And like a peacock sweep along his tail;
We’ll pull his plumes and take away his train,
If Dauphin and the rest will be but ruled.
CHARLES.
We have been guided by thee hitherto,
And of thy cunning had no diffidence.
One sudden foil shall never breed distrust