Henry VI, Part I

lost? is Rouen yielded up?

If Henry were recall’d to life again,

These news would cause him once more yield the ghost.

Exeter
How were they lost? what treachery was used?


Messenger

No treachery; but want of men and money.

Amongst the soldiers this is muttered,

That here you maintain several factions,

And whilst a field should be dispatch’d and fought,

You are disputing of your generals:

One would have lingering wars with little cost;

Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings;

A third thinks, without expense at all,

By guileful fair words peace may be obtain’d.

Awake, awake, English nobility!

Let not sloth dim your horrors new-begot:

Cropp’d are the flower-de-luces in your arms;

Of England’s coat one half is cut away.



Exeter

Were our tears wanting to this funeral,

These tidings would call forth their flowing tides.



Bedford

Me they concern; Regent I am of France.

Give me my steeled coat. I’ll fight for France.

Away with these disgraceful wailing robes!

Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes,

To weep their intermissive miseries.




Enter to them another Messenger.


Messenger

Lords, view these letters full of bad mischance.

France is revolted from the English quite,

Except some petty towns of no import:

The Dauphin Charles is crowned king of Rheims;

The Bastard of Orleans with him is join’d;

Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part;

The Duke of Alençon flieth to his side.



Exeter

The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him!

O, whither shall we fly from this reproach?



Gloucester

We will not fly, but to our enemies’ throats.

Bedford, if thou be slack, I’ll fight it out.



Bedford

Gloucester, why doubt’st thou of my forwardness?

An army have I muster’d in my thoughts,

Wherewith already France is overrun.




Enter another Messenger.


Messenger

My gracious lords, to add to your laments,

Wherewith you now bedew King Henry’s hearse,

I must inform you of a dismal fight

Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French.



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 every where, enraged he flew:

The French exclaim’d, the devil was in arms;

All the whole army stood agazed 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 Fastolfe had not play’d the coward:

He, being in the vaward, placed behind

With purpose to relieve and follow them,

Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke.

Hence grew the general wreck 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 besieged;

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.



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.



Gloucester

I’ll to the Tower with all the haste I can,

To view the artillery and munition;

And then I will proclaim young Henry king. Exit.



Exeter

To Eltham will I, where the young king is,

Being ordain’d his special governor,

And for his safety there I’ll best devise. Exit.



Winchester

Each hath his place and function to attend:

I am left out; for me nothing remains.

But long I will not be Jack out of office:

The king from Eltham I intend to steal

And sit at chiefest stern of public weal. Exeunt.



Scene II
France. Before Orleans.




Sound a flourish. Enter Charles, Alençon, and Reignier, marching with drum and Soldiers.


Charles

Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens

So in the earth, to this day is not known:

Late did he shine upon the English side;

Now we are victors; upon us he smiles.

What towns of any moment but we have?

At pleasure here we lie near Orleans;

Otherwhiles the famish’d English, like pale ghosts,

Faintly besiege us one hour in a month.



Alençon

They want their porridge and their fat bull-beeves:

Either they must be dieted like mules

And have their provender tied to their mouths

Or piteous they will look, like drowned mice.



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