_Exe._ Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice; For, had the passions of thy heart burst out, I fear we should have seen decipher’d there More rancorous spite, more furious raging broils,   ·ada185· Than yet can be imagined or supposed. But howsoe’er, no simple man that sees This jarring discord of nobility, This shouldering of each other in the court, This factious bandying of their favourites,   ·ada190· But that it doth presage some ill event.   [ada191] ’Tis much when sceptres are in children’s hands; But more when envy breeds unkind division;   [ada193] There comes the ruin, there begins confusion.   [ada194] [_Exit._ SCENE II. _Before Bourdeaux_. _Enter_ TALBOT, _with trump and drum_. _Tal._ Go to the gates of Bourdeaux, trumpeter;   [adb001] Summon their general unto the wall.   [adb002] _Trumpet sounds. Enter_ General _and others, aloft._ English John Talbot, captains, calls you forth,   [adb003] Servant in arms to Harry King of England; And thus he would: Open your city-gates;   ·adb005· Be humble to us; call my sovereign yours,   [adb006] 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,   ·adb010· 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.   [adb014] _Gen._ Thou ominous and fearful owl of death,   ·adb015· 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:   ·adb020· If thou retire, the Dauphin, well appointed, Stands with the snares of war to tangle thee:   [adb022] 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,   ·adb025· But death doth front thee with apparent spoil And pale destruction meets thee in the face. Ten thousand French have ta’en the sacrament   [adb028] To rive their dangerous artillery   [adb029] Upon no Christian soul but English Talbot.   ·adb030· 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;   [adb034] For ere the glass, that now begins to run,   ·adb035· Finish the process of his sandy hour, These eyes, that see thee now well coloured, Shall see thee wither’d, bloody, pale and dead.   [adb038] [_Drum afar off._ Hark! hark! the Dauphin’s drum, a warning bell, Sings heavy music to thy timorous soul;   ·adb040· And mine shall ring thy dire departure out.   [adb041] [_Exeunt General, &c._