O! whither shall we fly from this reproach?
Glo. We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats.
Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out.
Bed. Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness? 100
An army have I muster'd in my thoughts,
Wherewith already France is overrun.
Enter another Messenger.
Third Mess. My gracious lords, to add to your laments,
Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse,
I must inform you of a dismal fight 105
Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French.
Win. What! wherein Talbot overcame? is 't so?
Third Mess. O, no! wherein Lord Talbot was o'erthrown: 108
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, 112
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; 116
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; 120
Where valiant Talbot above human thought
Enacted wonders with his sword and lance.
Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him;
110, 111 Cf. n.
110 dreadful: redoubtable
112 full scarce: scarce full, not quite
116 wanted pikes; cf. n.
