| ACT IV SCENE II | Before Bourdeaux. | |
| [Enter TALBOT, with trump and drum] |
| TALBOT | Go to the gates of Bourdeaux, trumpeter: |
| Summon their general unto the wall. |
[Trumpet sounds. Enter General and others, aloft] |
| English John Talbot, captains, calls you forth, |
| Servant in arms to Harry King of England; |
| And thus he would: Open your city gates; | 5 |
| Be humble to us; call my sovereign yours, |
| And do him homage as obedient subjects; |
| And I'll withdraw me and my bloody power: |
| But, if you frown upon this proffer'd peace, |
| You tempt the fury of my three attendants, | 10 |
| Lean famine, quartering steel, and climbing fire; |
| Who in a moment even with the earth |
| Shall lay your stately and air-braving towers, |
| If you forsake the offer of their love. |
| General | Thou ominous and fearful owl of death, | 15 |
| Our nation's terror and their bloody scourge! |
| The period of thy tyranny approacheth. |
| On us thou canst not enter but by death; |
| For, I protest, we are well fortified |
| And strong enough to issue out and fight: | 20 |
| If thou retire, the Dauphin, well appointed, |
| Stands with the snares of war to tangle thee: |
| On either hand thee there are squadrons pitch'd, |
| To wall thee from the liberty of flight; |
| And no way canst thou turn thee for redress, | 25 |
| But death doth front thee with apparent spoil |
| And pale destruction meets thee in the face. |
| Ten thousand French have ta'en the sacrament |
| To rive their dangerous artillery |
| Upon no Christian soul but English Talbot. | 30 |
| Lo, there thou stand'st, a breathing valiant man, |
| Of an invincible unconquer'd spirit! |
| This is the latest glory of thy praise |
| That I, thy enemy, due thee withal; |
| For ere the glass, that now begins to run, | 35 |
| Finish the process of his sandy hour, |
| These eyes, that see thee now well coloured, |
| Shall see thee wither'd, bloody, pale and dead. |
[Drum afar off] |
| Hark! hark! the Dauphin's drum, a warning bell, |
| Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul; | 40 |
| And mine shall ring thy dire departure out. |
| [Exeunt General, &c] |
| TALBOT | He fables not; I hear the enemy: |
| Out, some light horsemen, and peruse their wings. |
| O, negligent and heedless discipline! |
| How are we park'd and bounded in a pale, | 45 |
| A little herd of England's timorous deer, |
| Mazed with a yelping kennel of French curs! |
| If we be English deer, be then in blood; |
| Not rascal-like, to fall down with a pinch, |
| But rather, moody-mad and desperate stags, | 50 |
| Turn on the bloody hounds with heads of steel |
| And make the cowards stand aloof at bay: |
| Sell every man his life as dear as mine, |
| And they shall find dear deer of us, my friends. |
| God and Saint George, Talbot and England's right, | 55 |
| Prosper our colours in this dangerous fight! |
| [Exeunt] |
The Essential Student History Quiz (with answers and illustrations)